ROBERT  R.  LATTA 


BANCROFT    LIBRARY 


Reminiscences   of    Pioneer    Life 


BY 

ROBERT  R.  LATTA 


Kansas  City,  Mo. 
Franklin  Hudson  Publishing  Co. 
1912 


Copyright,  1912 
By  Robert  R.  Latta. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


gj     Bancroft  Library 

FRECK'S  PREFACE, 
o 

o 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND: 

This  is  not  much  of  a  book.  But  I  want  you  to  buy 
this  book,  andf  read  it. 

It  is  a  simple  story,  told  in  a  simple  way,  of  the  simple 
pioneer  life  as  it  was  lived  in  the  log-cabin  homes,  on  the 
western  frontier,  in  the  long,  long  ago.  And  it  is  every 
whit  true. 

Freck,  the  writer,  is  an  old  pioneer,  one  of  the  com- 
mon people;  and  the  story  is  written  about  the  common 
people,  and  it  is  written  for  the  common  people. 

And  you  remember  that  Abraham  Lincoln  said,  "God 
loves  the  common  people;  this  is  why  He  made  so  many 
of  them." 

Xow,  be  good  to  yourself,  and  buy  and  read  this  book. 
This  is  all  I  have  to  say.  Good-bye. 

FRECK. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  5 

REMINISCENCES 

OF 
PIONEER  LIFE 

CHAPTER  I. 

On  the  fifteenth  day  of  June,  1848,  a  slow-going  stern- 
wheel  steamboat,  the  Red  Wing,  with  much  puffing  of 
steam  and  groaning  of  her  ponderous  engines,  was  push- 
ing her  way  up  against  the  current  of  the  upper  Missis- 
sippi River.  Dense  forests  lined  the  banks  and  stretched 
away  beyond  the  summit  of  the  river  bluffs.  Not  a  sign 
to  indicate  that  man  had  ever  penetrated  the  somber  shade. 

\Yhen  the  Red  Wing,  a  week  before,  steamed  away 
from  the  wharf  at  Saint  Louis,  she  was  loaded  with  boxes, 
bales,  barrels,  and  bundles,  cows,  oxen,  horses,  and  sheep; 
and  on  her  hurricane  deck  were  wagons,  plows,  and  carts, 
crates  of  pigs  and  coops  of  chickens.  Like  Noah's  Ark, 
two  and  two  of  every  kind.  And  the  deck  was  crowded 
with  men,  women,  and  children — and  the  faithful  old  dog; 
a  crowd  of  immigrants,  going  forth  to  seek  out  and  build 
for  themselves  homes  on  the  western  frontier. 

On  arriving  at  Keokuk,  a  large  number  went  ashore. 
From  this  point  they  will  go  out  along  diverging  ways, 
like  spokes  from  a  half-hub,  and  be  scattered  among  the 
hills  and  the  valleys,  the  forests  and  the  prairies  of  the 
western  borderland.  After  leaving  'Keokuk,  stops  were 
made  at  many  points  and  others  were  set  ashore.  And  on 
this  morning  but  one  family*  remained  on  board.  This 
family  consisted  of  husband  and  wife  and  their  seven  chil- 
dren. The  eldest,  Jim,  was  a  lad  of  fourteen  years;  the 
youngest,  a  wee  curly-headed  baby  girl  in  the  Mother's 
arms.  The  second  round  (from  the  top)  in  the  family  lad- 
der was  a  small,  sturdy,  freckle-faced  boy  (called  "Freck" 
for  short)  of  twelve  years.  And  this  same  Freck  has  now 
entered  upon  the  task  of  entertaining  the  reader. 

For  three  weeks  this  family  had  been  traveling  by 


6  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFL 

steamboat,  having  changed  boats  four  times.  Usually  the 
blare  of  the  whistle  and  the  clang  of  the  bell  disturbed  not 
their  repose;  but  now,  however,  when  the  whistle  sent  out 
the  three  long-drawn-out  "Whoo !  whoo !  whoo  1"  which 
went  echoing  far  out  into  the  dark,  gloomy  woods  and 
died  away  in  a  moan,  and  the  great  bell  on  the  hurricane 
deck  pealed  out  "Ding-dong !  Ding-dong !  Ding-dong !"  the 
signal  for  landing,  a  tremor  took  hold  of  them;  for  the 
mate  shouted,  "Port  Huron!  Get  ready  to  go  ashore." 
Port  Huron  was  the  end  of  the  long  journey  by  steamboat. 

The  little  bells  lianging  over  the  engines  said  to  the 
engineers,  "Slow  up !"  And  the  engineers  whirled  the 
throttles,  and  the  pilot  whirled  the  wheel,  and  the  Red 
Wing  pointed  her  prow  toward  the  western  shore  and  crept 
up  and  poked  her  nose  against  the  soft  bank;  and  the  line 
was  made  fast  around  a  tree,  and  the  gangplank  run  out; 
and  the  little  group  was  quickly  pushed  ashore  and  their 
stuff  piled  on  the  ground. 

Again  the  great  bell  tolled  off,  "Ding-dong!  Ding- 
dong!  Ding-dong!"  which  said,  "Let  go  the  line!  Let  go 
the  line!  Let  go  the  line!"  And  the  little  engine  bells 
said,  "Back  her  off !"  And  the  long  walking-beams,  reach- 
ing away  back  and  grasping  the  cranks  on  the  wheel-shaft, 
began  to  move,  and  the  Red  Wing  backed  away  from  the 
shore.  And  the  Ittle  bells  called,  "Go  ahead!"  And  the 
engineers  adjusted  the  cams,  and  the  engines  reversed  their 
motion,  and  the  Red  Wing  began  to  move  slowly  up  the 
river. 

And  the  little  group,  with  the  mile-wide  river  on  the 
one  side  and  the  untrodden  forest  on  the  other  side,  and 
some  cord-wood  on  the  bank,  and  a  cabin  back  in  the  woods, 
lui t  not  a  living  thing  in  sight,  stood  on  the  western  shore 
of  the  Mississippi  Eiver  and  watched  their  home  pass  around 
a  bend  out  of  sight. 

And  the  mental  picture  which  they  had  painted  on 
the  canvas  of  the  brain  (of  a  home  in  the  romantic  wild- 
wood  on  the  western  frontier,  which  had  cheered  them  on 
the  way  ;in«l  which  they  were  so  cii^cr  to  reach)  gave  place 
to  a  feeling  of  lonely  depression;  for  the  picturesque  fanci- 
ful wildwoofl  and  the  real  wildwood  were  quite  different. 

Hearing  footfalls,  they  looked  around,  and  saw  a  tall, 
bony  man,  a  true  type  of  the  frontiersman,  clad  in  home- 

.  with  his  sleeves  rolled  to  tho  armpits  and  his  shirt 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  7 

open  at  the  throat ;  and  witli  a  hearty  "How-dy,  stranger  ?" 
hr  M-jik'd  himself  on  a  l>o\  and  began  to  ask  the  usual 
([illations.  This  man  was  the  woodyard-keeper.  For  in 
those  days  men  would  go  into  the  woods  and  chop  cord- 
wood  in  the  winter,  to  be  sold  to  the  steamboats,  and  one 
of  them  would  look  after  the  sales.  The  land  was  all 
"Congress  land/'  now  called  "Government  land." 

The  Father  had  a  brother  living  in  the  region  of  Port 
Huron.  This  was  why  he  landed  here.  "Yes,  i  know  your 
brother,"  said  Mr.  W—  — ;  "we  all  call  him  'Uncle  Jim- 
my/ He  lives  on  Indian  Creek,  fifteen  miles  out.  He 
was  one  of  the  first  settlers  in  this  country — came  in  before 
the  Indians  were  moved;  and  he  has  done  much  to  subdue 
the  wilderness,  by  opening  new  farms  and  building  mills. 
And  he  has  the  same  number  of  sons  and  daughters  that 
old  Jacob  had." 

It  was  decided  that  Jim  and  Freck  should^'  go  in 
search  of  Uncle  Jimmy  and  a  team.  And  Mr.  W re- 
marked: "Boys,  it  is  only  fifteen  miles,  and  you  will  find 
a  trail  leading  from  the  wood-ricks  to  the  top  of  the  bluffs ; 
there  take  the  left-hand  road,  and  you  will  soon  come  out 
onto  the  prairie."  But  the  boys  knew  not  the  meaning  of 
"prairie,"  for  they  were  raised  in  the  big  woods. 

Having  heard  wild  stories  of  bears  and  wolves  and 
panthers  roaming  the  woods  in  the  West,  the  boys  con- 
sidered it  wise  to  take  a  gun  along.  And  the  old  smooth- 
bore was  carefully  loaded  by  the  Father.  And  the  boys 
crossed  the  river  bottom  and  were  going  up  the  hill,  when 
thev  wheeled  around  and  started  down  the  hill  as  fast  as 
their  feet  could  carry  them.  The  panic  subsiding,  they 
retraced  their  steps.  "Will  it  still  be  there?  Yes;  there 
it  is."  A  monster  snake,  stretching  clear  across  the  road, 
his  head  resting  on  the  little  bank  and  his  dark  and  yellow 
spots  glistening  in  the  sun.  Jim  crept  up  behind  ^a  big 
stump  and,  placing  the  gun  thereon,  took  deliberate  aim 
and  fired,  blowing  the  top  of  the  snake's  head  off. 

Because  of  the  excitement  in  landing,  the  boys  had 
eaten  no  breakfast,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  hand  of  hunger 
began  to  pinch  them  and  the  old  smooth-bore  increased  in 
heaviness  with  each  mile;  the  boys  carrying  it  time  about, 
or  each  grasping  an  end.  And  just  as  the  sun  was  shutting 
his  door*  we  came  to  Uncle  Jimmy's  cabin  in  Indian  Creek 
Grove,  and  we  made  ourselves  and  our  errand  known,  and 


8  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

were  given  a  friendly  greeting.  And  just  as  the  sun  was 
showing  his  bright  face  above  the  eastern  hills  we  were 
merrily  trotting  along  the  road  to  Port  Huron.  And  in 
the  evening  we  stopped  before  the  gate  at  Uncle  Jimmy's 
cabin,  but  Uncle  Jimmy  was  at  the  Yellow  Spring  Mills, 
in  Bes  Moines  County. 

And  the  next  morning  the  Father  started  on  foot  to 
see  his  brother,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  thirty  years,  and 
to  arrange  for  work;  for  his  money  was  nearly  all  gone, 
and  he  would  not  eat  the  bread  of  idleness.  And  the  Father 
returned,  and  we  were  to  go  to  the  Yellow  Spring  Mills. 
Frank  could  not  spare  a  span  of  horses,  and  a  couple  of 
yoke  of  young  oxen  were  yoked  to  the  wagon,  and  Frank 
took  up  the  whip,  saying,  "I  will  drive  out  through  the 
woods  and  see  that  the  steers  go  off  all  right."  But  they 
had  not  gone  far  until  they  crowded  Frank  out  of  the  road 
and  bounded  into  a  gallop  and  went  thundering  down  the 
road;  and  the  wheels  striking  the  stumps,  the  wagon  went 
spinning  along  on  two  wheels,  first  on  one  side  and  then 
on  the  other  side.  And  the  Mother  and  the  children,  like 
balls,  were  tossed  from  side  to  side;  the  Mother  holding 
the  wee  curly-headed  baby  girl  close  to  her  breast.  At  the 
point  where  the  road  came  out  onto  the  prairie  there  was 
a  cabin,  and  the  people,  hearing  the  rattle,  ran  out  and 
stopped  the  frantic  beasts,  where  they  stood  with  beating 
sides  and  wild-rolling  eyes.  The  Mother  sprang  out  and 
snatched  her  children  out,  and  being  wholly  overcome,  she 
sank  to  the  ground  and  burst  into  hysterical  crying,  still 
holding  the  wee  curly-headed  baby  girl  close  to  her  bosom. 
The  young  steers  were  unhitched  and  a  yoke  of  steady 
going  oxen  was  borrowed  from  Sam,  the  Father  took  up 
the  whip,  and  we  started  off  to  the  southward. 

That  night  was  the  beginning  of  our  camping-out. 
Soon  the  camp-fire  was  blazing,  and  the  perfume  of  frying 
bacon  and  boiling  coffee  floated  away  on  the  evening  air, 
and  the  boys  were  chuck- full  of  the  gladness  of  the  new  life. 
Blankets  were  spread  on  the  grass,  and  soon  the  voices  all 
were  hushed  and  we  were  sleeping,  for  the  first  time,  be- 
m-fitli  the  stars  of  heaven,  <>n  the  western  frontier. 

The  next  day  we  crossed  the  Iowa  Eiver  on  a  rope 
ferry.  Old-timers  need  no  explanation  of  a  rope  ferry,  but 
to  those  who  have  not  known  nor  will  ever  know  a  western 
frontier  anrl  the  rude  and  primitive  ways  T  will  say  that 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  9 

a  rope  ferry  was  a  simple  affair.  A  strong  rope  was  made 
fast  around  a  tree  near  the  bank,  and  the  othe  end  was 
carried  across  the  river  and  tied  to  a  tree ;  two  short  ropes, 
with  grooved  pulleys  to  follow  along  the  big  "rope,  were 
made  fast  to  the  flatboat  near  each  end,  and,  by  a  device 
for  the  purpose,  the  bow  rope  was  shortened,  placing  the 
boat  diagonally  across  the  current,  and  the  water  would 
drive  it  across. 

The  city  of  Wapello,  the  county  seat  of  Louisa  Coun- 
ty, a  city  of  five  or  six  cabins,  stood  on  the  bank  of  the 
river. 

In  due  time  we  arrived  at  the  Yellow  Spring  Mills, 
and  in  a  few  hours  housekeeping  was  begun,  in  a  one-room 
cabin,  without  window  or  floor;  the  cooking  was  done  at 
the  fireplace,  and  the  washing  down  at  the  branch. 

After  allowing  the  oxen  a,  day  to  rest,  Jim  and  Freck 
were  started  off  to  return  the  oxen.  In  the  afternoon  of 
the  first  day  one  of  the  bow-keys  broke,  and  the  bow  fell 
from  the  yoke,  and  the  off  ox  walked  out  of  the  road ;  and 
when  we  attempted  to  bring  him  under  the  yoke,  he  kept 
on  feeding  and  getting  farther  and  farther  away.  ]\fen 
working  in  a  near-by  field  came  to  our  assistance  and  a 
new  key  was  fitted,  and,  thanking  our  friends,  we  wen' 
on  our  way. 

On  our  homeward  journey  the  ferryman  set  us  over 
the  river  in  his  canoe,  a  big  log  scooped  out  and  pointed 
off  a  little  at  the  ends ;  it  rolled  and  pitched  at  each  stroke 
of  the  oars,  and  threatened  to  turn  bottom  side  up — but  it 
didn't, 

Jim  was  put  to  work  helping  the  Father  haul  wood  to 
the  mill  with  a  yoke  of  black  oxen.  Freck  was  given  a 
position  in  the  carding-mill.  His  duty  was  to  spread  the 
wool  evenly  on  a  table  over  which  an  endless  apron  re- 
volved, and  sprinkle  it  with  melted  grease ;  the  moving 
apron  carried  the  wool  within  the  reach  of  the  teeth  on  the 
revolving  cards,  and  it  came  out  on  the  other  side  of  the 
machine  in  rolls,  ready  for  the  spinning-wheel. 

Settlers  would  come  for  fifty  miles,  bringing  their 
own  and  their  neighbors'  wool,  pinned  with  thorns  in  old 
sheets  and  blankets,  and  fetching  along  the  required 
amount  of  grease  in  old  crocks  and  coffee-pots.  A  record 
was  kept  of  each  bundle,  and  a  time  set  to  return  for  the 
rolls. 


10  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

The  return  home  with  the  rolls  was  the  beginning  of 
a  season  of  activity  in  the  cabins.  The  spinning-wheels 
were  gotten  out  and  put  in  order.  There  were  two  kinds 
of  spinning-wheels  used,  the  big  wheel  and  the  little  wheel. 
The  little  wheel  was  the  more  common.  The  spinner  sat  on 
a  stool  and  turned  the  wheel  with  her  foot  and  manipulated 
the  roll  with  her  hands.  And  the  boy  who  sat  night  after 
night  and  dozed  by  the  smoldering  fire,  and  listened  to  the 
"Whirr,  whirr,  whirr/7  and  the  "Buzz,  buzz,  buzz,"  will  hear 
the  song  of  his  Mothers  spinning-wheel  while  he  lives. 

Because  of  its  greater  capacity,  the  big  wheel  was  pre- 
ferred where  there  were  big  girls.  The  spinner  walked 
backward  and  forward,  turning  the  wheel  with  a  wheel- 
hook,  and  drawing  out  the  roll  to  great  length.  And  back- 
ward and  forward  she  tramped,  until  the  puncheons  were 
worn  smooth  by  her  bare  feet  and  the  great  bundles  of  rolls 
were  converted  into  thread. 

Xext  came  the  dyeing,  then  the  weaving,  then  the 
making  of  the  garments.  Even  the  thread  was  manufact- 
ured in  the  cabin  home.  The  thread,  and  the  fine  linen, 
and  the  tow  cloth  for  hunting-shirts  and  grain  bags  came 
up  step  by  step  from  the  flax-patch,  which  was  planted  and 
pulled,  scutched  and  hackled  and  spun  by  the  mothers  and 
rl  a  lighters. 

The  sewing-machine  and  the  washing-machine  wore 
unknown.  The  washing  was  done  down  at  the  branch,  hy 
dipping  soft  soap  with  the  hand  from  a  gourd  hanging  on 
a  limb  and  smearing  it  on  the  garments,  and  rubbing  them 
between  the  knuckles;  while  the  baby  kicked  and  cooed  in 
a  sugar-trough  in  the  shade. 

And  the  everlasting  knitting!  On  looking  back,  it 
seems  that  girls  were  never  too  little  to  knit.  And  women 
visiting,  riding  or  walking,  plied  their  knitting- 
on  the  way. 


CHAPTER  IT. 

The  day.-  at  Yellow  Spring  Mills  glided  away,  with 
nothing  to  disturb  the  even  tenor  of  our  lives.  The  hiini 
of  the  spindles  and  the  measured  strokes  of  the  ongim' 
were  heard  five  days  in  the  \v<>ck.  But  on  Saturday  the 
low  rumbling  of  the  burrs  was  heard. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  11 

On  Saturday  the  settlers  had  a  kind  of  picnic,  coming 
to  the  mill  and  to  the  post-oflice;  for  Uncle  Jimmy  kept 
the  Hawkeye  post-office.  There  was  a  weekly  horseback 
mail.  They  came  in  wagons,  with  horses  and  with  oxen, 
Miid  on  horseback,  some  toting  bags  of  corn  on  their  backs, 
some  bringing  their  families,  and  having  dinner  in  the 
shade  down  by  the  spring.  This  was  "Central."  The  news 
and  gossip  from  the  different  settlements  was  exchanged 
and  talked  over;  and  while  waiting  for  their  grist  they 
would  gather  into  groups  and  discuss  "Free  Will,"  "Pre- 
destination," "Infant  Baptism,"  "Sprinkling  and  Immer- 
sion," and  go  home  at  peace  with  themselves  and  all  the 
world. 

The  last  days  of  August  had  come,  and  the  heat  in  this 
little  valley,  shut  in  by  forest-clad  hills,  was  oppressive.  Up 
to  this  time  we  had  all  enjoyed  good  health,  but  one  even- 
ing the  Mother  was  taken  with  a  severe  chill,  followed  by 
a  raging  fever.  Early  in  the  morning  the  Father  started 
afoot  for  Bear  Grove  (it  was  twelve  miles  to  Bear  Grove) 
to  fetch  old  Doctor  Fullenwider.  Doctor  Fullen wider  and 
bis  black  horse  were  daily  callers  at  that  cabin  home  for  six 
weeks;  for  one  by  one  the  children  came  down,  until  every 
member  except  the  Father  and  little  Will,  an  eight-year- 
old  boy,  were  laid  on  pallets  in  that  one-room  cabin;  and 
little  Will  spent  his  davs  on  the  path  to  the  spring,  twenty 
rods  away,  fetching  water  to  quench  the  fever  thirst  of 
the  sick. 

Tn  a  couple  of  week?  the  doctor  had  the  children  on 
their  feet  again,  hut  the  Mother  grew  weaker  day  bv  day. 

The  doctor  said,  "Mr.  L ,  your  wife  cannot  live  longer 

than  midnight;  however,  I  shall  return  in  the  morning." 
And  there  was  a  silence:  then  in  a  whisper  the  Mother  said, 
"Call  the  children."  Taking  our  hands,  she  bade  each 
farewell,  calling  us  by  name;  and  with  a  mothers  dying 
love  she  said,  "Children,  remember  thv  Creator  in  the  days 
of  thy  youth,  and  at  all  times  remember  that  Thou,  God, 
seest  me."  For  a  few  moments  the  wee  curly-headed  baby 
girl  lay  on  the  Mother's  breast  and  patted  her  cheek  with 
her  baby  hand.  Xoiselesslv  and  tearfully  we  moved  about, 
for  we  had  not  thought  that  our  Mother  might  die.  And 
when  the  shades  of  night  began  to  gather  around  our  cahir. 
home,  we  crept  into  nooks  and  corners  to  watch  for  the 
midnight  hour;  but,  like  the  disciples  in  the  Garden,  we 


12  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

went  to  sleep.  But  not  so  the  Father;  silently  he  kept  watch. 
The  Mother  fell  into  sleep,  and  it  seemed  the  sleep  of  death ; 
but  the  midnight  hour  passed,  the  Mother  awoke,  and  the 
crisis  was  passed.  The  doctor  was  much  affected,  and  the 
tears  dripped  down  over  his  long  gray  beard;  for  he  was 
a  conscientious  doctor  and  a  good  old  man.  But  how  could 
he  be  otherwise,  and  be  an  old-time  Methodist? 

The  Father  and  the  Mother  were  worth}'  members  of 
the  Seceder  Church.  Did  you  say  that  yon  never  heard  of 
the  Seceder  Church?  Well,  it  was  not  a  strong  church, 
and  it  was  a  very  exclusive  chnrch.  It  was  a  breach  of 
discipline  to  attend  the  services  of  any  other  denomination. 
But  as  a  God-fearing  and  a  God-honoring  people,  they  stood 
on  the  very  apex.  The  Seceder  Church  was  born  in  Scot- 
land, and  if  you  require  a  higher  endorsement,  you  will 
have  to  go  to  the  skies  for  it.  About  the  year  1730,  the 
Rev.  Ebenezer  Erskine  and  a  few  followers  seceded  from 
Ihe  Church  of  Scotland;  hence  the  name. 

Inasmuch  as  God  in  His  kind  providence  had  restored 
each  and  every  member  of  the  family  to  health,  the  Father 
and  the  Mother  felt  it  a  duty  to  seek  a  home  among  a  peo- 
ple of  like  faith.  And  this  was  a  characteristic  of  the  early 
settlers  on  the  western!  frontier.  They  would  not  willingly 
cut  themselves  off  from  church  privileges,  and  in  choosing 
a  home  this  end  was  kept  in  view.  Uncle  Jimmy  was  called 
into  the  council.  Xow  Uncle  Jimmy  had  been  out  of  touch 
with  the  Seceders  so  long  that  he  could  affiliate  to  some  ex- 
tent  with  Ilie  Methodists:  and  Uncle  Jimmy  said:  "John, 
I  have  found  that  there  are  good  people  among  the  Meth- 
odists; now,  John,  stay  with  me.  and  I  will  give  you  a 
forty-acre  farm."  But  John  hadn't  been  out  of  touch  with 
the  Seeedera  long  enough.  ;md  John  wouldn't  stay.  So  a 
yoke  of  oxen  was  borrowed  from  Uncle  Jimmy,  and  John 
pulled  out  for  Washington,  where  there  was  a  congregation 
of  Seceders. 

They  followed  out  mi  the  old  trail  to  Wapello,  and 
the  first  night  they  camped  in  a  grove  where  a  settler  was 
building  a  house;  his  wife  was  keeping  house  by  the  side 
of  a  log,  and  their  bed-room  was  the  covered  wagon-box. 
All  day  long  we  followed  the  dim  trail  across  the  prairie, 
and  not  a  house  on  the  way;  for  there  were  settlers  only 
in  and  along  the  edge  of  the  timber.  Tlio  houses  were 
all  built  of  round  logs  with  the  bark  on.  and  roofed 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  13 

with  clapboards;  the  floors  wore  of  puncheons  (split  logs). 

This  winter  was  spent  in  the  timber,  making  rails  for 
Nate  Harris.  The  price  was  three  bits  a  hundred.  Money 
in  those  days  was  counted  by  picayunes  and  bits.  A  pic- 
ayune was  six  and  a  fourth  cents;  a  bit,  twelve  and  a  half 
cents;  four  bits,  half  a  dollar;  and  six  bits,  seventy-five 
cents.  The  Father  cut  down  the  trees  and  split  the  rails, 
while  Jim  and  Freck  sawed  off  the  rail  cuts;  and  some  days 
the  three  w^ould  earn  a  dollar. 

In  the  spring  of  1849  a  farm  was  rented,  and  a  yoke 
of  oxen  (old  Jack  and  Jerry)  was  bought  of  Josiah  Daw- 
son  for  thirty-eight  dollars,  with  a  log"-chain  thrown  into 
the  bargain. 

This  was  the  Father's  first  attempt  at  farming  (hav- 
ing worked  at  his  trade  heretofore),  and  the  tools  used  on 
the  western  frontier  sixty  years  ago  would  to-day  cause 
nervous  prostration.  Some  plows  were  of  cast  iron,  and 
others  were  wooden  with  iron  points;  brush  was  dragged 
across  the  field  to  smooth  the  ground;  to  cultivate  the  corn. 
half-yokes  were  made,  and  old  Jack  drew  one  plow  and  old 
Jerry  another.  But,  notwithstanding  the  primitive  mode 
of  culture,  the  virgin  soil  yielded  bountiful  crops,  both  of 
weeds  and  grain. 

This  summer  and  the  next  Jim  and  Freck  and  Mar- 
garet attended  the  Old  School  Presbyterian  Sabbath-school. 
The  Seceders  had  no  Sabbath-school — they  didn't  think  it 
was  right  to  have  school  on  the  Sabbath;  but,  in  order 
to  hold  their  young  people  at  home,  they  fell  into  line  a 
few  vears  later.  The  Presbyterians  had  a  little  white  meet- 
ing-house (in  those  days  we  had  meeting-houses  and  went 
to  meeting;  now  we  have  churches  and  go  to  church)  in 
the  northeast  part  of  town,  and  a  bell — the  only  church- 
bell  in  town.  And  when!  this  bell,  every  Sabbath  morning, 
would  ring  out,  "Come  up  to  the  house  of  the  Lord!"  the 
people  would  be  seen  coming  along  the  roads  and  the  by- 
paths and  turning  their  steps  toward  the  different  places 
of  worship;  for  the  Seceaers  and  the  Methodists  also  had 
meeting-houses.  Mr.  Lynn  and  his  charming  wife  con- 
ducted the  Sabbath-school.  The  Seceders  and  the  Presby- 
terians always  said  "the  Sabbath" ;  only  the  Methodists  and 
the  wicked  said  "Sunday."  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lynn  were  pleas- 
ant and  lovely  singers,  and  made  us  feel  that  it  was  good 
for  us  to  be  there.  A  small  gilt-edged  Bible  was  offered  as 


14  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

a  reward  for  committing  to  memory  the  Shorter  Catechism. 
Jim,,  Freck,  and  Margaret  each  received  a  Bible;  but,  on 
looking  back,  I  don't  think  that  Freck  deserved  it.  I  re- 
member that  it  took  a  deal  of  prompting  to  pull  him  over 
the  home-stretch.  But  Mr.  Lynn's  heart  was  in  the  right 
place,  and  he  would  not  dishearten  the  boy.  Mrs.  Lynn 
had  two  brothers;  they  were  deaf-mutes,  and  attended  Sab- 
bath-school, but  took  no  part.  Mr.  Henderson,  their  father, 
ran  a  blacksmith-shop,  and  the  largest  one  worked  at  the 
forge. 

Twice  a  year  the  Seceders  had  "Examination  Day." 
They  met  at  the  meeting-house ;  the  minister  examined  the 
members  from  the  Confession  of  Faith,  and  an  elder  asked 
the  children  questions  from  the  Shorter  Catechism.  Mr. 
Orr  was  an  elder,  and  also  a  Scotchman;  he  had  white 
bushy  hair,  and  was  a  large  man,  with  stooped  shoulders 
and  a  deep,  solemn  voice;  he  lived  down  by  the  graveyard, 
and  ran  a  turning-lathe,  turning  it  with  his  foot.  He 
made  big  spinning-wheels  and  little  spinning-wheels,  and 
also  cradles  to  rock  the  babies  in;  little  red  boxes  these  were, 
shaped  like  little  coffins  without  a  lid,  and  set  on  rockers. 
When  Elder  Orr,  in  his  solemn  and  austere  manner,  exam- 
ined us,  we  were  afraid  of  him  and  couldn't  think  of  the 
answers;  and  we  received  a  severe  reprimand,  that  made  us 
feel  like  criminals.  But  Elder  Anderson :  everybody,  even 
the  minister,  called  him  "Uncle  Davy."  Uncle  Daw  was 
tall  and  slim,  and  came  from  Indiana;  he  had  iron  gray 
hair,  and  a  low,  soft  voice,  and  he  spoke  in  a  half  whisper, 
and  he  had  a  smile  stowed  away  in  the  back  of  his  head, 
that  was  all  the  time  trying  to  jump  out  at  the  windows. 
We  got  on  pretty  well  with  Uncle  Daw.  and  received  a 
little  story  with  a  moral,  and  a  little  bit  of  fun  to  help  us 
remember  the  moral. 

Mr.  Andrews  was  the  Seceder  minister.  He  lived  on 
a  farm  near  the  Father's,  and  Freck  was  sent  over  quite 
often  to  hoe  in  the  minister's  garden  and  do  chores.  For 
some  reason  the  minister  took  an  interest  in  Freck  and  mad  > 
advances  toward  friendly  conversation,  but  Frerk  was  afraid 
of  the  minister  and  could  do  nothing  hut  dig  his  toes  into 
the  ground  and  say  "Yes,  sir,"  or  "N"o,  sir."  But  he  did 
the  work  assigned  him.  Mrs.  Andrews  was  tall  and  stately, 
as  becometh  a  minister's  wife,  and  when  Mrs.  Andrews,  in 
her  queenly  and  willowy  way.  came  oni  where  Freck  was 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  15 

\\orkiug,  he  would  want  to  throw  down  his  hoe  and  gallop 
off  home  to  Mother — but  he  didn't  dare  to  do  it.  Mr. 
Andrews  attended  Synod  at  Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania,  and 
he  took  Freck  along  as  far  as  Crawfordsville  (ten  miles) 
to  fetch  back  Major,  the  black  horse.  Freck  did  enjoy  the 
ride  home  across  the  prairie,  astride  a  man's  new  saddle. 

This  summer  Mr.  Andrews  made  the  Father  a  prop- 
osition that  filled  Freck  with  consternation.  This  was 
the  proposition:  "Turn  Freck  over  to  me  [of  course 
the  minister  did  not  say  "Freck,"  nor  did  he  use  these 
words],  and  I  will  give  him  an  education,  and  when  he 
reaches  manhood,  should  he  not  care  to  enter  the  ministry, 
he  shall  be  free  to  choose  his  calling."  After  due  consider- 
ation, the  Father  reached  the  conclusion  that  Freck  was 
quite  a  help,  and  as  the  years  passed  along  they  would  slyly 
slip  Freck  a  portion  that  would  add  to  his  usefulness.  And 
the  Mother?  Well,  the  Mother  wanted  the  places  at  the 
table  all  filled.  So  Freck  remained  beneath  the  boughs  of 
the  old  family  tree. 

The  old-time  Seceder  and  Presbyterian  ministers  did 
not  give  the  trumpet  an  uncertain  sound;  they  told  their 
people  what  they  should  do  and  what  they  should  not  do ; 
that  was  what  they  were  there  for.  And  with  great  earn- 
estness they  would  insist:  "Train  up  a  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from 
it."  "Chasten  thy  son  while  there  is  hope,  and  let  not  thy 
soul  spare  for  his  crying."  "He  that  spareth  the  rod 
hateth  his  son."  And  these  old-time  fathers  never  shirked 
a  duty.  The  bovs  were  strictly  trained  and  severely  flogged. 
Boys  were  punished  for  neglect  of  duty,  for  saying  bad 
words,  and  for  making  an  unnecessary  tumult  while  doing 
the  chores  on  Sabbath  evening;  but  the  severest  punishment 
was  for  telling  a  lie  and  for  swearing.  There  was  a  differ- 
ence between  saying  bad  words  and  swearing;  bad  words 
were  those  words  that  lie  along  the  border  line,  which  of 
themselves  are  harmless,  but  are  stepping-stones  to  others 
which  are  decidedly  sinful.  I  will  relate  one  incident  to 
show  the  care  with  which  boys  were  trained.  The  milking- 
pen  was  entered  through  a  gate  in  the  garden  fence.  One 
evening  old  Bo>sy  was  quietly  harvesting  the  garden  truck; 
the  Father  drove  her  out  and  quietly  investigated,  and  be- 
yond a  reasonable  doubt  Freck  was  the  last  one  to  pass 
through  the  gate.  Now,  when  the  Father  held  court,  the 


16  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

accused  was  not  granted  the  privilege  that  King  Agrippa 
granted  Paul  (Acts  xxri.  1).  But  Freck  impulsively  and 
unwisely  affirmed  that  he  had  shut  and  latched  the  gate. 

The  judge  said  (for  there  were  no  jury  trials  in  the 
Father's  court)  :  "Freck,  I  will  give  you  a  double  portion 
— one  for  talking  back." 

The  next  evening  at  supper  the  Father  was  fidgeiy: 
finally  he  said:  "Freck,  I  guess  you  were  right  in  saying 
you  had  shut  the  gate  [Freck  recalled  the  double  portion 
and  he  didn't  say,  "I  told  you  so"],  for  this  evening  I  saw 
Bossy  raise  the  latch  with  her  horn  and  walk  through. 
Freck,  1 7m  sorry  I  punished  you  wrongfully,  but  I  Jm  al- 
most persuaded  that  Deacon  Brown  is  right." 

"How  is  that?"  inquired  the  Mother. 

"Well,  the  Deacon  holds  that  it  is  better  to  punish  a 
dozen  innocent  boys  than  to  let  one  guilty  one  escape." 

"I  notice  the  Deacon's  opinions  have  weight  with  you. 
Why  not  follow  where  he  leads?" 

"Kindly  explain,"  remarked  the  Father. 

"Well,  the  Deacon,  as  is  his  custom,  flogged  Johnny 
YITY  sever  ly,  and  learning  that  Johnny,  for  a  wonder,  was 
not  guilty  of  the  charge,  said,  ' Johnny,  next  time  you  shall 
go  free.'  That  evening,  while  building  fence,  Johnny  in 
swinging  a  rail  struck  his  father  in  the  face,  and  of  course 
the  Deacon  snatched  a  rod  and  started  for  Johnny :  but 
Johnny  cried,  'Hold  on,  father;  hold  on !  you  said  next  time 
was  free.'  'Sure,  Johnny;  sure.  In  my  haste  I  had  for- 
gotten. But,  Johnny,  there  will  be  another  time.' '' 

"I  take  it  that  you  wish  me  to  give  Freck  a  chance  to 
butt  me  in  1he  fare  with  a  rail."  And  In-  smiled  the  smile 
n I!  tin-  man  who  thinks  thai  ho  has  had  the  last  word  with 
his  wife. 

But  the  Mother  nodded  her  head  and  said  :  "Thai  hoy 
is  not  Johnny  Brown." 

Tf  the  Mother's  hand  ovor  fell  in  punishment  on  Frook. 
if  was  bo  fore  he  can  remember  it. 

Tn  the  summer  of  1851  the  Seceders  built  a  new  and 
larger  meeting-house,  and  worshiped  in  the  court-house 
while  building. 

The  town  \va-  built  up  against  the  timber;  and  on  the 

prairie  sido  "fmigi-i-s-   land"  joined   up  agiiinst   the   town 

and   exiendod    twenty  irrilos  without   a  house.     No  ono  in 

days  thought  that  these  broad  prairies  would  over  be 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONJ-KU  Lin-:  17 

settled.     At  this  time  there  was  not  a  house  on  the  «-;isi 
side  of  the  court-house  square,  and  but  two  on  the  v. 
side,  and  not  a  street  in  the  town.     This  was  Washington, 
Iowa,  as  1  knew  it,  from  1848  to  1854. 

The  settlement  extended  along  the  crooked  creek  tim- 
ber for  three  miles  to  the  northwest  of  town.  There  were 
eighteen  cabins,  and  I  ran  see  each  i-jihin  and  name  each 
saltier.  Twelve  were  Seceders.  On  the  opposite  side  there 
was  but  one  settler. 

demons  Branch  headed  away  out  on  Dutch  Creek 
Prairie.  There  were  groves  of  timber  along  the  branch,  in 
the  bends,  and  it  was  a  great  deer-range;  also  there  were 
mink  and  beaver  and  muskrat  along  the  branch.  The 
beaver  would  gnaw  down  trees  a  foot  m-ross,  and  float 
them  down  stream  and  build  dams,  covering  many  acres 
of  land.  The  nmskrats  would  gnaw  off  the  big  rushes  and 
begin  at  the  bottom  and  build  their  little  hay-shock  houses 
in  the  beaver  dams,  leaving  a  hole  at  the  side  at  the  bottom 
and  up  through  the  center,  and  above  the  water  they  would 
have  a  nice  dry  bed-room ;  when  alarmed,  they  would  slide 
down  cellar  and  out  the  open  door  and  swim  away  out  into 
the  lake. 

Mike  Dugan  was  a  hunter,  a  trapper'  and  an  Irish- 
man. There  were  a  good  many  "Mikes"  along  the  border 
in  the  early  days,  but  not  all  Irishmen.  Mike  Dugan  was 
better  off  than  the  most  of  them;  for  Mike  had  a  yoke  of 
oxen,  a  cow,  a  pig,  his  gun.  and  traps,  several  little  "Mikes" 
and  "Noras,"  and  a  wife.  Mike  "squatted"  on  "Congress 
land,"  away  up  on  Clemons  Branch;  he  built  a  pen  of  logs 
and  called  it  a  house,  and  fenced  a  little  field  with  logs 
and  poles,  and  while  Mike  carried  his  gun  and  watched  his 
traps,  the  "old  woman"  (as  Mike  called  her)  worried  the 
face  of  the  little  field  until  it  yielded  some  potatoes  and 
stuff.  For  five  years  the  little  field  and  the  branch  were 
the  boundary  of  the  world  to  the  "old  woman"  and  the 
little  "Mikes"  and  "Noras,"  and  then  the  "old  woman" 
died.  Mike  buried  her,  without  a  coffin,  away  up  on 
Clemons  Branch.  And  the  wives  of  these  early  days,  like 
Mike  Dugan's,  became  silent,  morose,  and  without  hope; 
and  the  children  were  half  naked,  half  wild,  and  half 
starved. 

Ike  was  a  good-natured,  long-legged  fellow,  and  he 
got  married.  It  does  seem  as  though  almost  anybody  can 


18  REMINISCENCES  oi<  PIONEER  Liri: 

get  married.  Ike  did  love  to  tote  a  gun  and  follow  a  deer- 
track.  Ike  (I  knew  Ike  mighty  well)  built  a  sorry  cabin 
in  a  dark  hollow,  and  borrowed  a  yoke  of  oxen  and  moved 
in.  Then  there  fell  a  good  tracking  snow,  and  Ike  struck 
out  with  his  gun.  It  was  three  miles  to  the  settlement,  the 
snow  was  a  foot  deep,  and  Mrs.  Ike  didn't  know  the  way 
out.  Two  days  passed  down  the  dark  hollow,  and/  the 
nights  tagged  along  after  the  days,  and  still  Ike  did  not 
return.  Mrs.  Ike  carried  bark  into  the  cabin  and  baked 
bread  and  boiled  venison ;  for,  although  Mrs.  Ike  had  lived 
two  years  in  the  dark  hollow,  she  was  a  woman  still.  She 
placed  the  swaddling-clothes  under  her  pillow,  and  when 
Ike  returned  home,  he  found  a  little  boy  four  days  old. 
But  when  the  springtime  found  its  way  into  the  dark  hol- 
low, Mrs.  Ike  found  her  way  out  and  to  her  father's  house, 
and  never  again  did  she  return  to  the  dark  hollow  nor  to 
Ike.  The  last  I  knewt  of  Ike,  he  was  in  a  mining-camp  in 
the  Kocky  Mountains,  and  he  was  wearing  a  tall  hat  and 
sporting  a  cane;  for  Ike  had  the  position  of  floor-manager 
in  a  dance-hall.  (These  are  no  idle  tales,  drawn  from  the 
imagination.) 

In  those  days  the  cabins  were  much  alike:  built  of 
round  logs  and  roofed  with  clapboards,  with  weight-poles 
to  hold  the  clapboards  in  place;  not  a  nail  used  in  the 
building.  The  windows  were  holes  in  the  walls,  and  the 
floors  were  of  puncheons.  The  fireplace  took  up  most  of 
one  end,  and  the  crane,  with  links  and  hooks  to  hang  the 
kettles  on,  was  built  into  the  fireplace.  Bread  was  baked 
in  a  cast-iron  oven  with  long  feet  and  a  lid  with  a  rim; 
live  coals  were  piled  under  and  over  and  around  the  oven, 
and  a  loaf  would  come  out  moist  and  sweet.  It  was  man- 
na, compared  with  the  shop-bread  of  to-day.  One  end  of 
the  porch  belonged  to  the  men  :  and  on  pins  \vere  Imng  the 
gears,  the  seed  corn  tied  by  the  shuck,  the  hoes,  the  rakos, 
the  grain  cradles  and  the  scythes,  and  many  other  things. 
On  the  other  end  was  the  water-bench,  with  a  gourd 
hanging  on  its  pin  above  the  bucket:  and  there  wore  the 
lulis,  and  1he  big  brass  kettle  in  which  was  made  the  wild 
plum  and  pumpkin 'butter ;  also  Imnrllos  of  thrums,  and 
sheaves  of  catnip,  bonesot,  and  pennyroyal,  for  medical  pur- 
poses, and  tansy,  mint,  and  wintorgreen,  for  the  spring- 
bitters. 

And  the  ash-hopper!     Xo  home  was  complete  without 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  19 

an  ash-hopper,  which  was  a  section  of  a  hollow  tree.  In 
this  the  winter  ashes  were  stored,  and  at  soap-making  time 
water  was  poured  over  the  ashes  and  the  resulting  lye  car- 
ried from  the  lye-trough  to  the  big  soap-kettle  hanging  on 
a  pole  between  twro  logs,  and  a  slow  fire  kept  burning  for 
several  days.  A  child  stood  guard  with  a  gourd  of  cold 
lye,  to  see  that  the  soap  did  not  boil  over;  and  the  child 
would  be  delighted  when  the  mother  would  say:  "That 
will  do.  ^SOWT  you  can  run  away  and  play." 

Mike  Hay  was  the  richest  man  in  the  settlement;  he 
had  a  big  farm  and  a  long  family  ladder — all  girk  but  long 
slim  Stew  and  little  Mike  in  the  cradle.  Mike  se^;  Stew 
along  with  Eob  Don  and  two  others  to  catch  buffalo  calves. 
They  drove  up  north  near  Ft.  Des  Moines  (now  the  capi- 
tal of  the  State),  across  the<  trackless  prairie,  with  oxen; 
taking  along  some  cows  to  nurse  the  buffalo  calves,  also 
horses  to  run  down  the  calves.  They  got  back  home  with 
eight ;  many;  died  on  the  way.  The  buffalo  did  not  take 
kindly  to  domestic  life ;  they  all  died  before  three  years, 
and  there  was  no  increase.  Rob  Don  undertook  to  break 
his  two  to  the  yoke,  but  in  their  wild  way  they  ran  against 
the  corner  of  the  barn  and  killed  themselves.  The  Father 
bought  a  big  yoke  of  oxen  (Duke  and  Dime)  from  Alike, 
and  paid  for  them  in  breaking  prairie. 

The  storekeepers  had  their  goods  hauled  from  the  Mis- 
sissippi Eiver,  where  they  were  unloaded  from  steamboats 
into  warehouses  built  on  stilts  in  the  edge  of  the  river.  In 
the  fall  and  winter  the  Father  "teamed"  from  the  river 
away  back  into  the  interior  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles;  he 
took  Freck  along  for  a  helper,  and  always  camped  out.  On 
one  of  these  trips  to  Burlington  the  Father  was  taken  sick, 
and  Freck  had  to  drive  and  care  for  the  two  yoke  of  oxen, 
build  the  camp-fires,  fry  the  bacon,  boil  the  coffee,  bake 
the  flapjacks,  and  wind  his  oxen  in  among  the  many  teams 
waiting  to  be  first  at  the  door  of  the  warehouse.  No  small 
task  for  a  fourteen-year-old  boy.  But  boys  on  the  frontier 
soon  learned  to  be  self-reliant. 

Tn  those  early  days  there  were  no  music-books  in  the 
churches.    The  psalm  was  "lined  out,"  two  lines  at  a  time. 
Two  young  men  ("clerks")  sat  in  front  of  the  pulpit,  and 
the  minister  would  stand  and  raise  his  hand,  the  congrega- 
tion would  rise  to  their  feet,  and  the  minister  would  read: 
"That  man  hath  perfect  blessedness 
Who  walketh  not  astray," 


20  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

and  the  "clerks"  would  raise  the  tune ;  when  these  two  lines 
were  sung,  one  of  the  "clerks"  would  read : 
"In  council  of  ungodly  men, 

Nor  stands  in  sinners'  way," 

and  the  whole  congregation  would  join  in  the  singing. 
Even  the  children  were  taught  to  join  in  singing  the  psalm. 
There  were  no  organs,  no  horns,  nor  fiddles;  no  little  man 
slashing  the  air  with  his  little  wooden  sword,  showing  off 
his  trained  choir  to  a  mute  congregation ;  but  the  meeting- 
house trembled  with  the  volume  of  song  as  the  good  old 
Psalms  of  David  were  sung  to  the  good  old  tunes  of 
"Ortonville,"  "Mear,"  and  others. 


CHAPTER  III. 

In  those  days  a  barrel  of  whiskey  was  a  part  of  the 
storekeeper's  stock,  and  a  tin  cup  stood  on  the  head  of  the 
barrel.  And  the  taverns,  (now  called  "hotels")  had  a 
''bar-room."  Notwithstanding  this  free-to-all  condition, 
there  was  not  a  hundredeth  part  of  the  drunkenness  and 
crime  of  to-day.  In  five  years  there  was  not  a  drunken 
brawl  on  the  streets  of  Washington.  And  a  policeman  was 
unknown,  even  in  name. 

Down  in  Big  Bend  lived  old  man  Ruff  and  his  sons 
and  his  sons-in-law.  They  were  from  Kentucky,  and  a 
mighty  clever  people,  who  kept  several  race-horses  and  liked 
Kentucky  fun.  The  old  man  (a  strapping  big  old  Ken- 
tuckian,  with  a  bald  head)  had  turned  the  leadership  over 
to  big  John,  and  John  wanted  to  make  good.  There  had 
never  been  a  show  in  town,  and  when  the  tavern  barn  \vn* 
plastered  with  show-bills,  everybody  that  could  read  stop- 
ped and  read,  and  the  others  looked  at  the  pictures.  We 
lived  in  the  last  house  on  the  Iowa  City  road,  and  Iowa  City 
was  the  State  capital.  The  show  was  to  come  across  the 
twenty-mile  prairie  (without  a  house),  and  we  children 
were  lined  up  on  the  fence,  watching.  Early  in,  the  morn- 
ing (for  they  drove  all  night)  a  shout  went  up,  "Here  they 
come !"  And  sure  enough,  they  were  pulling  over  the  Lone 
Tree  Lake  Divide,  away  out  at  the  head  of  Long  Creek. 
\\1mi  a  sight!  (Treat  chariots,  drawn  by  four  bespangled 
horses;  huge  wild  beasts,  sprawling  in  their  cages,  enjoy- 
ing the  cool  morning  air;  monster  elephants,  flapping  their 


EEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  21 

big  ears;  and  the  little  spotted  Shetland  ponies!  Freck 
cried,  "Oh !  I  wish  I  had  one  of  thoser  to  drive  up  the  oxen 
in  the  morning,  instead  of  getting  wet  with  the  dew  to 
the  armpits."  For  the  first  time  Freck  felt  that  he  was 
being  cheated  out  of  a  part  o£  the  good  things  of  this  life 
that  were  coming  to  him,  and  he  pouted  and  scolded  his 
oxen  all  the  day,  and  he  resolved  to  have  a  spotted  Shet- 
land pony  or  he  would  run  away.  But  the  show  passed 
on,  and  Freck  drove  up  the  oxen/  in  the  same  old  way. 

On  show  day  morning  the  Big  Benders  came  gallop- 
ing into  town,  Big  John  and  his  young  Kentucky  wife, 
as  tall  as  he,  at  the  head  of  the  column.  In  true  Ken- 
tucky style,  they  circled  around  the  court-house  square,  and 
then  gracefully  curved  around  to  the  tavern  and  dismount- 
ed, and  the  horses  were  taken  to  the  barn.  They  all  went 
into  the  tent  and  took  seats  together,  and  things  went 
smoothly  until  John  jumped  over  the  rope  to  show  the 
clown  how  to  handle  a  whip.  But  John  was  hustled  back 
and  made  to  sit  down  real  hard.  "I  'II  see  you  fellers  after 
the  show,"  said  John.  "All  right;  and  ye  needn't  git 
out  nary  sarch-warrant  to  find  us,  neither,"  grinned  the 
clown.  After  the  show  the  Big  Benders  took  their  women- 
folks over  to  the  tavern;  then  they  repaired  to  the  barn, 
and  were  telling  each  other  (and  they  didn't  talk  in 
whispers)  what  they  would  do  to  "them  show  fellers." 
There  was  a  whistle,  and  "them  show  fellers,"  armed  with 
tent-pins,  tumbled  over  the  fence  all  around;  but  the  Big 
Benders  didn't  have  tent-pins.  They  led  John's  horse  and 
his  tall  young  wife's  horse  home,  and  she  stayed  at  the 
tavern  and  nursed  John  until  he  was  able  to  be  taken 
home ;  and  she  was  proud  of  John,  because  John  had  made 
good. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  spring  of  1851  has  rolled  around.  Three  years 
have  sunk  to  the  bottom  of  the  Sea  of  the  Past  since 
we  walked  from  the  deck  of  the  Red  Wing  onto  the  wild 
western  bank  of  the  Mississippi  River.  The  passing  years 
have  been  filled  with  toil  and  privation  and  hardships, 
mingled  with  simple  pleasure  and  enjoyment,  in  our  cabin 
home  on  the  western  frontier.  This  spring  the  great  rush 
to  the  California  "gold- diggings"  continued.  Long  trains 


22  KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

of  covered  wagons,  drawn  by  five  and  six  yoke  of  oxen,  were 
daily  passing;  penciled  on  the  covers  were  many  inscrip- 
tions and  mottoes  and  the  name  of  the  place  from  which 
they  came.  These  men  and  boys  (for  a  vast  number  were 
only  striplings)  who  rushed  off  to  the  California  ''dig- 
gings" in  forty-nine  and  the  early  fifties  afterwards  be- 
came known  as  "Forty-niners/7  How  many  of  these  "Forty- 
niners'7  are  living  to-day  to  tell  the  story?  In  1890  the 
Association  of  California  "Forty-niners"  had  one  hundred 
and  fifty  members;  to-day  but  eleven  are  left. 

This  spring  the  Father  entered  eighty  acres  of  land 
and  a  one-room  cabin  was  built.  We  called  it  our  home. 

"When  the  curtains  of  night  are  pinned  back  by  the  stars, 

And  the  beautiful  moon  leaps  the  skies, 
And  the  dewdrops  of  heaven  are  kissing  the  rose, 

'Tis  then  that  the  memory  flies. 

*         #         *         *      '    *         *         *         * 

"Then  go  where  you  will,  on  land  or  on  sea, 

1 711  share  every  sorrow  and  care ; 
And  at  night,  when  I  kneel  by  my  bedside  to.-  pray, 
I  '11  remember  you,  love,  in  my  prayer." 

In  the  door  of  the  old  cabin  home  I  am  standing  to- 
night. It  is  a  rude  cabin,  but  it  is  our  home.  I  hear  the 
voices  as  in  the  long  ago;  I  see  the  mother  as  in  the  days 
that  are  gone.  I  see  the  path  down  past  the  pond,  and  I 
hear  the  croaking  of  the  frogs  and  the  chatter  of  the  hlaek- 
birds  among  the  tall  rushes;  and  my  heart  grows  sad  with 
a  reminiscent  gladness. 

This  winter  Jim,  Freck,  Margaret,  and  Will  were 
started  to  school.  The  log  school-house  was  a  mile  and  a 
half  awav  and  was  built  in  the  woods.  The  floor  was  of 
puncheons,  tin-  backless  benches  were  of  puncheons  with 
•  le^->.  and  the  writing-desk  was  a  puncheon  laid  on 
pins  in  the  wall.  The  wood  was  whole  trees  dragged  up 
wiih  four  <n-  five  yoke  of  oxen,  and  ilie  Master  (teacher) 
would  appoint  big  boys  in  chop  the  wood.  Sometimes  on 
Satnrdavs  the  !>i^  hoys  would  come  and  chop  a  lot  of  wood. 

Manv  of  the  schohir-  wen-  full-grown  men  and  wo- 
men, and  all  (except  Stew  liny)  were  members  of  the 
Seceder  fhnrch.  or  their  parents  were  members.  There 
was  no  looking  the  Master  out.  The  school  was  opened  by 


PIONEER  SCHOOL-HOUSE 
FRECK'S  BOYHOOD  HOME 


24  KEMIXISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

the  Master  reading  a  chapter  in  the  Testament.  The  usual 
studies  were  reading,  writing,  spelling,  and  "figuring"; 
two  or  three  of  the  big  girls  studied  grammar.  The  Mas- 
ter "boarded  'round,"  dividing  the  time  by  the  number  of 
scholars.  This  was  a  very  cold  and  stormy  winter.  The 
wind  and  the  snow  came  howling  down  from  the  northwest, 
swirling  through  the  chinks  in  the  walls  and  the  roof  and 
covering  the  floor  and  the  beds  with  snow ;  and  much  sick- 
ness prevailed.  The  school  lessons  were  studied  at  night, 
by  the  light  of  hickory  bark.  Hickory  bark  was  the 
pioneers'  coal  oil. 

Boys  in  those  days  had  something  to  do  before  start- 
ing to  school.  Freck  and  Will  had  to  drive  the  cattle  to 
water,  a  half-mile,  and  chop  great  holes  in  the  thick  ice 
on  Crooked  Creek,  and  it  was  often  first  recess  before  they 
reached  the  school-house;  but  they  were  not  the  only  boys, 
and  the  Master  understood  the  conditions  and  there  were 
no  tardy-marks.  Just  before  the  noon  recess  and  dismiss- 
ing at  night  the  Master  would  call,  "First  class  take  your 
places,"  and  the  big  girls  and  big  boys  would  line  up  for 
the  spelling  contest.  The  Master  would  "give  out"  the 
words,  and  when  a  word  was  missed  he  would  call,  "Next," 
and  "next"  would  tackle  it. 

Stew  Hay  was  long  and  slim,  good-natured  and  in- 
dolent, and  twenty;  he  read  in  the  Second  Eeader  with 
Freck,  and  they  were  boy  friends.  In  the  spring  of  1851 
he  joined  with  Bob  Don  and  Bill  Cicel,  and  Mike  gave  him 
a  couple  of  yokes  of  steers,  and  they  "pulled  out"  for  the 
"gold-diggings"  in  California.  Whether  they  ever  "pulled 
in"  I  know  not;  for  many  in  the  early  rush  "pulled  out" 
tli at  never  "pulled  in." 

"How  dear  to  the  heart  is  the  fond  recollection  of 
childhood's  connection  and  innocent  joy,"  and  the  old  log- 
cabin  home !  How  clearly  do  I  recall  those  school-boy  les- 
sons and  the  scenes  connected  therewith!  The  wide  fire- 
place and  the  flickering  light;  Ihe  Mother  in  her  low  chair, 
plying  her  knitting-needles;  the  Father  listening  to  our 
reading,  sind  helping  us  over  the  hard  places. 

"The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor."  Xo  doubt 
nil  this  is  uninteresting  to  the  reader  who  has  not  passed 
along  the  enow-drifted  school  path,  across  the  fields,  to  the 
log  school-house  in  the  woods,  and  has  not  sat  on  the  back- 
less puncheon  benches  and  racked  his  brain  and  witnessed 


REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE  25 

the  agonizing  efforts  of  others  to  master  the  hard  words 
in  McGuffey's  Third  Eeader  and  "figure"  in  fractions ;  and 
who  has  never  roasted  his  face  reading  by  the  firelight. 

"Oh !  were  you  ne'er  a  school-boy, 

And  did  you  never  train, 
And  feel  that  swelling  of  the  heart 
You  ne'er  shall  feel  again?" 

"Twinkle,  twinkle,  little  star; 
How  I  wonder  what  you  are." 

And  the  best  of  all : 

"Mary  had  a  little  lamb, 

Its  fleece  was  white  as  snow; 
And  everywhere  that  Mary  went, 
The  lamb  was  sure  to  go." 

Euth  was  the  best  scholar  and  the  prettiest  girl  in 
school.  Her  father  lived  on  the  western  frontier  and  was 
an  elder  in  the  Seceder  Church.  The  Master's  father  was 
also  an  elder;  but  the  Master's  father  lived  away  back  in 
Ohio.  The  Master's  father  had  come  out  west  and  en- 
tered each  of  his  three  sons  eighty  acres  of  "Congress  land" 
and  returned  to  his  home  in  Ohio.  The  Master  was  Freck's 
cousin.  At  the  expiration  of  the  school  term  the  Master 
returned  to  his  father's  house ;  but  before  going  the  Master 
promised  Euth  to  return  in  the  fall  and  build  a  cabin  on 
his  land,  and  Euth  promised  the  Master  that  she  would 
set  the  cabin  in  order  and  keep  it  in  order  "until  death 
do  us  part."  But  Euth  never  set  the  cabin  in  order,  as  the 
cabin  was  never  built ;  for  the  Master  never  returned.  No, 
the  Master  never  returned !  Before  the  harvest  was  past 
and  the  summer  was  ended,  they  folded  the  Master's  hands 
over  his  breast,  wrapped  him  in  a  shroud  of  snowy  white- 
ness, and  laid  him  in  the  cold,  dark  grave. 

"Oh!  why  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be  proud? 
Like  a  swift-fleeting  meteor,  a  fast-flying  cloud, 
A  flash  of  the  lightning,  a  break  of  the  wave, 
Man  passeth  from  life  to  his  rest  in  the  grave. 
The  leaves  of  the  oak  and  the  willow  shall  fade, 
Be  scattered  around,  and  together  be  laid ; 
And  the  young  and  the  old,  and  the  low  and  the  high, 
Shall  smolder  to  dust  and  together  shall  lie. 


26  KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

"The  infant  a  mother  attended  and  loved, 
The  mother  that  infant's  affections  who  proved, 
The  husband  that  mother  and  infant  who  blessed — 
Each,  all,  are  away  to  their  dwelling  of  rest. 
The  maid  on  whose  cheek,  on  whose  brow,  in  whose  eye, 
Shone  beauty  and  pleasure,  her  triumphs  are  by; 
And  the  memory  of  those  who  loved  her  and  praised 
Are  alike  from  the  minds  of  the  living  erased. 

"The  hand  of  the  King  that  the  sceptre  hath  borne; 
The  brow  of  the  priest  that  the  mitre  hath  worn, 
The  eye  of  the  sage,  and  the  heart  of  the  brave, 
Are  hidden  and  lost  in  the  depth  of  the  grave. 
The  peasant  whose  lot  was  to  sow  and  to  reap, 
The  herdsman  who  climbed  with  his  goats  up  the  steep, 
The  beggar  who  wandered  in  search  of  his  bread. 
Have  faded  away  like  the  grass  that  we  tread. 

"The  saint  who  enjoyed  the  communion  of  Heaven, 
The  sinner  who  dared  to  remain  unforgiven, 
The  wise  and  the  foolish,  the  guilty  and  just, 
Have  quietly  mingled  their  bones  in  the  dust. 
So  the  multitude  goes,  like  the  flower  or  the  weed 
That  withers  away  to  let  others  succeed; 
So  the  multitude  goes,  like  the  flower  or  the  weed 
To  repeat  every  tale  that  has  often  been;  told. 

"For  we  are  the  same  our  fathers  have  been ; 
We  see  the  same  sights  our  fathers  have  seen; 
We  drink  the  same  stream,  and  view  the  same  sun. 
And  riin  the  same  course  our  fathers  have  run. 
The  thoughts  we  are  thinking  our  fathers  would  think; 
From   the   death   we   are   shrinking   our   fathers   would 

shrink, 

To  the  life  we  are  clinging  they  also  would  cling; 
But  it  speeds  for  us  all  like  a  bird  on  the  wing. 

"They  loved,  but  the  story  we  cannot  unfold; 
Tliev  -ronic<l.  1ml  ihe  heart  of  the  haughty  is  cold; 
They  grieved,  but  no  wail  from  their  slumbers  will  come; 
They  joved.  but  the  ion^ue  of  their  gladness  is  dumb. 
They  died!  aye,  they  died;  and  \ve  tilings  that  are  now, 
Who  walk  on  the  turf  that  lies  over  their  brow, 
Who  make  in  their  dwelling  a  transient  abode, 
Meet  the  things  that  they  met  on  their  pilgrimage  road. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  27 

"Yea,  hope  and  despondency,  pleasure  and  pain, 
We  mingle  together  in  sunshine  and  rain; 
And  the  smiles  and  the  tears,  the  song  and  the  dirge, 
Still  follow  each  other,  like  surge  upon  surge. 
'Tis  the  wink  of  an  eye,  'tis  the  draught  of  a  breath, 
From  the  blossom  of  health  to  the  paleness  of  death, 
From  the  gilded  saloon  to  the  bier  and  the  shroud. 
Oh !  why  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be  proud  ?" 

This  was  President  Lincoln's  favorite  poem.  He 
learned  it  by  heart  when  a  young  man.  The  author's  name 
was  William  Knox. 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  lovely  young  Spring  of  1852  has  come,  with  her 
dark  blue  skies  and  her  soft,  balmy  breath,  sweet  with 
the  fragrance  of  the  wild  cherry  and  the  plum  blossoms. 
The  cattle  have  laid  aside  their  shaggy  winter  coats,  and 
come  up  along  the  paths,  lowing  and  in  their  sleek  sum- 
mer garments,  to  sleep  at  home.  The  woods  are  full  of 
song-birds,  and  flocks  of  prairie  chickens  strut  around  on 
the  hillside  and  call  to  each  other.  And  the  quiet  Sab- 
bath da}7,  in  which  no  work  is  done,  and  the  white  clouds 
racing  along  the  highway  of  heaven — all  things  seem  to 
have  combined  to  make  the  heart  glad. 

But  in  my  reminiscences  the  autumn  seems  to  have 
been  the  most  soulful  season  of  the  year.  Nature  seemed 
to  hold  out  her  hands,  filled  with  the  ripened  fruit 
of  summer.  The  toil  and  the  heat  are  forgotten,  and 
there  is  a  subdued  rattling  in  the  corn  as  the  stalks 
bow  their  heads  to  the  autumn  breeze;  and  for  the  care 
received  they  have  returned  the  golden  ears  of  corn.  The 
great  red  sun  zigzags  up  from  behind  the  rim  of  the  earth 
and  wades  through  the  haze  along  the  smoky  sky,  and 
sends  his  mellow  rays  shimmering  down,  flooding  the 
world  with  a  restful  melancholy.  The  long  beard  on  the 
broad  face  of  the  prairie  is  shaggy  and  tangled,  and  the 
trees  have  changed  their  green  robes  for  garments  of 
brown  and  red  and  yellow.  All  nature  is  in  a  contented 
mood.  Over  yonder  on  the  old  dead  tree  in  the  edge  of 
the  woods,  its  bare  arms  stretched  in  supplication  to  the 
sky,  the  crows  in  the  early  morning-  sit  and  utter  their  half 


28  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

plaintive,  half  defiant  "Caw !  caw !  caw !"  And  from  the 
dark  woods  comes  back  the  answering  "Caw !  caw !  caw !" 
In  the  woods  the  squirrels,  with  cheeks  puffed  out  with 
nuts  which  they  are  storing  for  the  bleak  cold  days  of  win- 
ter, scamper  along  the  fallen  logs. 

On  the  side  of  the  field  bordering  the  woods  the  timid 
deer  come  slipping  along,  and,  stopping  to  listen,  they 
leap  the  fence;  and  when  we  come  to  garner  the  corn,  we 
find  only  the  cob  in  the  husk.  Some  would  set  sharpened 
stakes  at  the  deer-crossings,  and  when  they  leaped  the 
fence  they  would  be  impaled.  But,  like  Paul,  I  would 
eat  no  meat  while  the  world  stands,  had  I  to  get  it  in  this 
way.  Of  all  the  animals  to  which  Adam  gave  names,  the 
little  spotted  fawn,  the  baby  deer,  is  the  most  lovable  and 
innocent.  Often  in  the  early  morning  while  seeking  the 
oxen,  I  have  scared  one  of  these  from  the  bed  where  the 
mother  deer  had  caused  it  to  hide  while  she  went  to  break- 
fast, and  it  would  look  up  into  my  face  with  those  great 
sad  eyes  and  crouch  close  to  the  ground.  Mother  deer 
often  have  two  fawns,  but  I  never  knew  one  to  hide  them 
together.  One  morning  I  was  driving  along,  not  know- 
ing that  anyone  was  near,  when  "Bang !"  went  a  gun,  and 
a  deer's  dying  bleat  wailed  on  the  still  morning  air.  The 
hunter  was  Bill  Mart,  and  I  ran  over  with  him  to  the  deer. 
He  had  broken  its  spine;  and  when  I  came  up,  it  looked 
up  into  my  face  with  the  look  of  a  dying  child.  I  could 
scarce  keep  back  the  tears;  but  Bill  opened  his  long  knife 
and  severed  the  jugular  vein.  Although  I  grew  to  man- 
hood in  the  midst  of  these  surroundings,  I  never  fired  but 
one  shot  at  a  deer  in  my  life — and,  thank  Heaven!  I 
missed  it. 

But  there  were  others  who  took  a  more  realistic 
view  and  hunted  the  deer  for  food  and  also  for  rev- 
<-mie.  I  had  a  friend  who  wished  to  get  married,  but 
did  not  have  the  necessary  dollar  to  pay  for  the  license. 
He  lived  two  miles  from  town,  and  one  morning-  at 
the  peep  o'  day  he  took  his  rifle  and  started  in  the  direc- 
tion of  town,  following  along  in  the  edge  of  the  woods; 
for  the  deer  usually,  for  greater  safety,  feed  near  the 
woods.  Spying  a  bunch,  he  crawled  up  and  selected  a 
fine  buck,  and  sent  a  bullet  crashing  back  of  the  shoulder; 
for  those  frontier  lads  could  draw  a  bead.  Divesting  it 
of  the  unnecessary  parts,  he  slung  the  buck  over  his 


IiK.MIXISCEXCES    OF    PlONEER    LlFE  29 

shoulder  and  wended  his  way  to  town,  where  he  exchanged 
it.  for  a  silver  dollar,  and,  going  over  to  the  shack  called 
the  court-house,  he  exchanged  the  dollar  for  a  license  to 
marry  Betty — and  lived  happily  ever  after. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

At  the  head  of  Long  Creek  there  is  a  lake,  called 
Lone  Tree  Lake.  This  lake  was  far  out  on  the  English 
Elver  Prairie.  Evidently,  in  the  long,  long  ago,  there  had 
been  a  large  grove  here ;  but  the  prairie-fires,  coming  roar- 
ing down  year  after  year,  had  bitten  off  bite  after  bite, 
until  but  one  lone  tree  remained — because  he  was  standing 
boot-top  deep  away  out  in  the  waters  of  Lone  Tree  Lake. 
Some  miles  below  was  Lin  Grove,  and  farther  on  down 
was  Hickory  Grove.  There  were  no  settlers  on  Long  Creek. 

Years  ago  one  settler  had  built  his  cabin  in  Hickory 
Grove.  The  lone,  deserted  cabin  was  still  standing  on  the 
bank  of  the  creek,  and  the  spring  was  still  flowing  and 
pouring  its  waters  over  the  tiny  cataract  into  the  creek, 
and  the  prairie-fires  had  left  a  portion  of  the  fence  around 
the  little  field.  No  one  seemed  to  know  from  whence  this 
man  came  or  wheresoever  he  went.  There  was  a  sort  of 
tradition  amongst  the  oldest  settlers  on  Crooked  Creek 
that  he  came  from  the  southward;  that  he  drove  in  across 
the  trackless  prairie  with  two  yoke  of  oxen  and  his  young 
wife:  that  his  wife  had  died,  and  that  he  had  wrapped  her 
in  blankets  and  placed  her  in  the  wagon  on  a  bed  of  hay 
and  drove  back  to  the  southward  ;  and  that  was  all.  I  have 
stood  in  the  door  of  that  lone,  forsaken  cabin.  There  was 
no  floor,  no  windows;  the  old  stick  chimney  had  tumbled 
down;  the  clapboard  door  was  hanging  by  one  wooden 
hinge;  the  pole  bedstead  was  standing  in  the  corner.  And 
as  I  stood  in  the  door  and  looked  in  I  saw,  in  my  boyish 
mind,  a  strong  young  man  and  a  comely  young  woman; 
they  were  talking  cheerfully,  and  drawing  bright  pictures 
of  their  future,  and  they  were  all  alive  with  the  hope  of 
a  home  on  the  western  frontier.  Then  I  looked  over  on  the 
pole  bed,  and  I  saw  a  rigid,  lifeless  form.  Her  hands  are 
crossed  on  her  breast;  her  eyes  are  forever  closed  to  the 
things  of  life;  all  her  hopes  have  perished;  the  door  is 
shut  in  darkness,  and  she  will  never  see  the  consummation 


30  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

of  the  desire  of  her  heart.  And  I  saw,  in  my  mind  (but  in 
my  boyish  day-dreaming  it  was  real),  the  husband  carry 
her  out  and  tenderly  place  her  in  the  wagon,  press  his  tear- 
wet  cheek  against  her  cold  face.,  and  then  draw  the  cover- 
ing and  hide  her  from  his  sight.  Then  he  turns  and  takes 
a  last  look  at  the  things  her  hands  have  touched,  and  takes 
np  the  whip  and  pilots  his  oxen,  with  his  dead  wife,  back 
over  the  trackless  prairie,  over  which  he  and  his  living 
wife  had  so  recently  passed,  filled  with  hope  and  hasten- 
ing forward  to  build  n  home  on  the  western  frontier. 

Tt  is  with  a  feeling  of  gladness,  mingled  with  sadness, 
that  I  recall  with  what  fussy  preparations  we  children 
made  ready  for  our  day's  outing,  to  lay  in  our  winter's 
supply  of  hickory  nuts.  Tt  was  four  miles  to  Hickory 
Grove,  and  the  evening  before  the  corn  for  the  oxen's  din- 
ner, the  hay  to  ride  on,  and  a  bag  for  the  nuts  were  placed 
in  the  wagon  ;  and  the  mother  has  the  lunch  in  the  half- 
bushel  measure,  for  we  are  to  start  at  the  peep  o'  day. 
The  two  little  girls,  Elizabeth  and  Isabella  (now  cut  down 
to  "Belle,"  the  wee  curly-headed  baby  girl  that  the  ^\ [other 
carried  in  her  arms  from  the  deck  of  the  Red  Wing,  who 
has  attained  the  venerable  age  of  five  years),  are  as  great- 
ly exercised  as  any  of  us. 

The  Father  comes  to  the  door  and  calls,  "Children,, 
time  to  prepare  for  bed!"  And  we  all  know  the  meaning, 
and  quietly  take  our  seats.  The  Father  opens  the  old  Bookr 
in  which  our  names  and  the  dates  of  our  births  are  record- 
ed, and  on  the  page  for  ''Marriages"  anpears  the  Father's 
and  the  Mother's  name?,  and  the  "Death-"  page  is  blank. 
The  Father  reads  a  chapter  and  offers  up  the  sacrific^  of 
prayer,  and  soon  the  voices  all  are  hushed.  In  tlie  alienee 
of  the  Father,  the  Mother  would  either  her  children  about 
her  and  read  and  pray.  Our  Mother's  voice  in  prayer,  how 
it  lingers  in  our  nvinorv!  tremulous  aivl  low.  and  pleading 
— almost  a  sol).  Ho  where  we  will,  on  land  or  on  son.  <»nr 
Mother's  voice  in  prayer  will  go  will)  us.  And  when  fo-srd 
about  by  ibe  tempests  of  life,  and  temptations  and  despair 
hfdju'o  11*  in  on  cverv  sidr.  and  we  I'eel  the  life-lino  slip- 
ping through  our  bands,  then  we  hear  the  Devil  whisper- 
ing, "Let  go;  let  go"  But  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion 
and  the  turmoil,  from  away  hack  yonder  comes  floating 
down  through  the  years  from  our  cabin  home  the  voice  of 
our  Mother  saying,  "0  my  Father,  guide  and  keep  these 


I\i:.MINISC'i:NtT.S    OF     PlONKKK     LlFE  31 

children  to  the  em!."  Then  we  turn  and  cry,  "(id  iheo 
behind  1110,  Satan."  Tlio  child  who  has  a  praying  mother, 
or  the  husband  who  has  a  praying  wife,  has  no  excuse  for 
being  had. 

When  the  sun  peeped  over  the  rim  of  the  prairie,  he 
saw  the  Mother  and  her  children  and  old  Duke  and  Dime 
half  way  to  Hickory  Grove. 

.lack  Frost  had  hit  ten  the  hurrs  but  lightly,  and  but 
few  nuts  had  fallen.  The  wise  and  provident  little  squir- 
rels, knowing  ihat  hoary  old  Winter  was  getting  his  char- 
iot ready,  had  not  been  idle,  and  a  drove  of  wild  hogs,  as 
wild  as  the  deer  and  much  more  fierce,  had  also  been,  nos- 
ing around. 

These  wild  swine  started  From  a  few  abandoned  by  the 
man  who  drove  away  to  the  southward;  but  the  diligence 
of  the  wolves  had  prevented  a  rapid  increase.  A  wolf  is 
a  cunning,  sneaking,  and  coward  I  v  beast.  Should  two  of 
them,  prowling  around,  find  an  old  mother  pig  with  her 
little  piggies  snuggled  away  between  herself  and  an  old 
log.  one  of  them  in  his  wolfish  way  would  provoke  the  old 
mother  pig  to  hump  her  back  and  with  open  mouth  make 
a  rush  at  him,  and  then  he  would  skip  away,  and  the  other 
would  snatch  a  piggie  and  gallop  off. 

We  rambled  through  the  wood,  passed  near  the  dead 
woman's  cabin,  jumped  up  a  bunch  of  deer,  and  returned 
home  with  some  hickory  nuts  and  a  big  lump  of  gladness 
in  each  breast. 

The  young  people  did  not  permit  the  time  in  the  win- 
ter to  drag  along  and  become  a  burden.  Once  a  week 
there  was  singing-school ;  and  there  was  the  monthly  de- 
bate, now  called  "literary."  And  occasionally  the  wagon- 
box  was  placed  on  the  sled  and  filled  with  hay,  and  four 
prancing  horses  with  jingling  bells  hitched,  and  the  sled 
packed  so  closely  that  there  was  not  room  for  one  more. 
The  smallish  boys  would  stand  on  the  runners  and  cling 
to  the  edge.  And  on  Hallowe'en  the  boys  would  retire; 
and  when  the  parents  were  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the  un- 
suspicious, they  would  steal  out  and  away  to  the  place  of 
meeting.  And  had  there  been  light,  there  could  have  been 
seen  some  beards  through  which  Time  had  drawn  his  paint- 
brush, but  whose  wearers  were  boys  again,  "just  for  to- 
night." Gates  were  hidden,  and  rails  leaned  against  the 
door  to  bump  the  head,  and  boards  placed  over  the  chim- 


32  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

ney,  and  wagon-wheels  hung  high  in  the  trees.  These 
things  were  the  flavoring  that  gave  life  on  the  frontier  a 
spicy  taste. 

This  fall  (1852)  the  Father  took  a  sub-contract  from 
Uncle  John  Don  (in  those  days  all  elderly  people  were 
called  "Uncle"  and  "Aunt")  to  carry  the  United  States 
mail  from  Washington  to  Bloomfield.  This  was  a  'cross- 
country horseback  mail;  the  distance  was  eighty  miles,  and 
the  round  trip  had  to  be  made  in  four  days — a  ride  of  forty 
miles  a  day.  The  compensation  was  four  hundred  and 
eighty  dollars  a  year.  The  boy  who  rode  a  mail  route  on 
the  frontier,  sixty-five  years  ago,  was  riding  on  no  merry- 
go-round.  It  was  twelve  miles  across  Dutch  Creek  Prairie, 
without  a  house.  Freck  rode  across  this  prairie  eighty- 
four  times,  more  than  a  thousand  miles,  and  met  but  one 
horseman  and  a  band  of  Indians.  But  the  deer  were  seen 
scattered  over  the  prairie,  and  often  a  wolf  would  trot 
alongside  of  the  hors?  and  sniff  the  sweaty  smell.  And 
from  the  Des  Moines  River  to  Fox  River  Prairie  was  twenty 
miles;  all  the  way  through  dense  woods  and  along  a  kind 
of  cow-path,  over  fallen  logs  and  through  the  brush;  and 
only  three  cabins  on  the  way.  Freck  rode  through  these 
gloomy  woods  eighty-four  times,  a  distance  of  sixteen  hun- 
dred miles,  or  forty  days,  and  only  mot  one  horseman  and 
one  team.  Fox  River  was  crossed  on  a  bridge — the  only 
bridge  on  the  route  of  eighty  miles. 

The  Father  heard  the  voice  of  the  West  calling  and 
saying.  "It  is  better  farther  on."  So  preparations  were 
made  to  go  forth  and  seek  out  and  build  a  home  on  the 
western  frontier. 

In  those  days  of  isolated  homes  the  family  tie  wa- 
strong;  for  tlieir  comradeship  was  with  cadi  oilier.  Our 
Scotch  mothers  were  not  demonstrative;  they  never  "mollv- 
roddled"  their  children.  When  a  baby  moved  away  from 
babyhood,  it  moved  beyond  the  <u-rasional  kiss.  Rut  ii  was 
to  the  Mother  we  went  with  our  boyish  troubles,  and  it 
WB£  llic  Mother  who  bound  up  our  brui>ed  fingers,  mean- 
time scolding  us  for  bring  s<»  careless.  And  it  was  the 
Mnfhrr  who  taught  us  to  say  cadi  night  before  we  dosed 
our  eves  in  gli 

"Vow    I    lav   me  down    to  sleep : 
I  pray  the  T/>rd   mv  soul   to  keep; 


REMINISCENCES  <>r  I'mM-i-i;  Lm.  33 


And  should    I   die  before    I    wake. 
I   pray  tin-   Lord  my  soul  to  take; 
And  this  I  ask  for  Jesus'  sake.     Amen.'" 

And  the  Mother.  1>\  tin-  tender  and  «|iiiet  influence  of  a 
mother,  impressed  on  our  young  minds  reverence  for  God 
and  t^odlv  thing's,  \\hirh  ha-  ^one  with  us  all  along  the 
journey  of  life,  and  uiu-onsi-ioiisly  and  unintentionally 
hound  with  a  silken  cord  our  hearts  to  home  and  Mother. 
And  we.  in  memory,  can  still  hear  her  voice  chiding  us 
for  word  or  act  that  savored  of  irreverence  or  levity.  And 
she  would  repeat  from  Eobert  Burns,  the  Scotch  bard: 

"And  oh  !  be  sure  to  fear  the  Lord  alway, 

And  mind  your  duty,  morn  and  night; 
Lest  in  temptation's  path  ye  gang  astray, 
Implore  His  counsel  and  assisting  might; 
They  never  sought  in  vain  that  sought  the  Lord  aright." 

But  the  time  came  to  us  (and  it  is  the  common  lot 
of  all)  when  we  no  longer  could  go  to  Mother  with  our 
heartaches. 

"Wo  are  gathered  around  the  old  fireside  to-day, 

Weary  women  and  tall  bearded  men; 
But  the  quick  tear  will  start  in  the  steadiest  eye 

When  the  old  song  is  sung  once  again. 
There  's  a  soft,  absent  look  in  our  Mother's  blue  eyes, 

And  her  glasses  grow  misty  and  dim; 
For  there  9s  one  who  Avas  wont  to  join  in  that  song 

Has  joined  in  the  angels'  glad  hymn. 

"Oh,  the  cheery  old  song  that  our  Mother  would  sing  ! 

'Twas  a  cure  for  our  sorrow  and  care  ; 
And  my  heart  grows  light  as  in  days  that  are  gone 
When  its  tones  fall  again  on  my  ear. 

"There  's  a  change  in  that  voice,  once  as  clear  as  the  bell, 

And  her  soft  hair  's  as  white  as  the  snow  ; 
For  our  Mother  has  long  trod  the  rough  paths  of  life, 

And  her  footsteps  grow  feeble  and  slow. 
But  her  love  for  her  sons  is  as  mooring  and  strong, 

And  she  holds  them  as  lightly  and  free 
A.8  -he  did  when  they  rocked  within  sound  of  her  voice, 

'Xeath  the  boughs  of  the  old  family  tree. 


34  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

"Oh,  the  cheery  old  song  that  our  Mother  would  sing ! 

'Twas  a  cure  for  our  sorrow  and  care; 
And  my  heart  grows  light  as  in  days  that  are  gone 
When  its  tones  fall  again  on  my  ear." 

Now  Freck  had  never  been  from  home,  and  he  was 
sixteen  years  old.  Of  course  he  had  gone  with  the  Father 
many  times  to  the  Mississippi  River,  and  had  been  away 
from  Monday  morning  till  Saturday  night  breaking  prai- 
rie; but  home  was  "just  over  yonder."  And  on  Saturday 
night,  when  he  drove  his  oxen  up  in  front  of  the  gate,  there 
would  be  a  shout,  "Oh,  here's  Freck!"  and  when  he  un- 
yoked his  oxen  and  stepped  inside  the  gate,  the  two  little 
sisters  would  grab  him  around  the  legs  and  look  up  into 
his  face  and  both  talk  at  once.  Freck  did  not,  at  the  time, 
reason  it  out  in  this  way — in  fact,  he  gave  it  no  actual 
thought;  nevertheless,  away  down  in  his  sub-consciousness, 
his  home-coming  was  an  ever-present  realization.  And  it 
is  the  same  with  us  in  after-years:  we  go  out  from  our 
home  in  the  morning  to  perform  the  tasks  of  life,  and  we 
return  in  the  evening,  day  after  day,  and  our  mind  is  full 
of  our  affairs  and  we  give  no  actual  thought  to  our  home- 
coming. But,  without  our  knowing  it,  our  sub-conscious- 
ness quickens  our  steps  as  we  draw  near  our  loved  ones  and 
our  home. 

The  Father  seemed  to  have  no  misgivings  about  go- 
ing a  hundred  miles  away  and  entrusting  to  Freck  the  car- 
rying out  of  the  terms  of  the  mail  contract,  and  although 
he  would  not  see  him  during  the  life  of  the  contract,  the 
Father  seemed  to  think  that  Freck  knew  his  duty  and 
would  do  it.  The  time  drew  near  for  the  departure.  A 
little  brown  mare,  named  Bett,  was  bought  and  turned 
over  to  Freck,  to  be  ridden  on  the  mail-route;  and  Jim 
harnes&ed  Sam  and  Jenny  to  one  wagon  and  the  Father 
strung  out  the  oxen  to  the  other  wagon.  The  Father  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  multiplying  words,  and  when  all  were 
ready  to  start,  he  called:  "Freck,  come  here.  \<>\v. 
Freck,  should  Bett  not  be  able  to  stand  the  work,  you 
write  me  when  you  will  be  at  the  nearest  point,  and  I  will 
send  you  another  horse."  And,  taking  up  the  whip.  IIP 
commanded  the  oxen  to  go  forward.  And  Freck,  holding 
Bett  by  the  bit,  stood  by  the  gate  of  the  old  home  and 
watched  the  procession  pass  out  of  sight  over  the  little  hill. 
Now  what  will  you  think  of  Freck,  a  boy  sixteen  years  old, 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  35 

when  1  tell  you  that  a  great  sob  rose  and  lodged  in  his 
throat,  and  he  buried  his  face  in  Bett's  mane  and  cried  like 
a  sick  baby  ?  With  a<  lonely  "lost  boy"  feeling,  he  climbed 
into  the  saddle  and  guided  Bett  into  the  path  that  led 
down  into  the  woods. 

Freck  knew  every  by-path  over  the  hills  and  all  the 
dark  bends  along  the  creek;  for  many  times  had  he  trav- 
ersed their  windings,  and  often  sat  on  some  old  mossy 
log  and  listened  to  the  voices  of  the  woods,  and  watched 
the  sun  gild  the  topmost  branches  of  the  trees  on  the  hill- 
top, and  listened  to  the  mingled  bird-songs  and  to  the  rab- 
bit's tread.  The  woods  was  Nature's  library,  and  Freck 
loved  to  sit  in  this  magnificent  room,  whose  dome  was  the 
sky  and  the  walls  were  where  the  sky  touches  the  ground. 

Over  in  that  plum  thicket  is  where  the  dogs,  Legs  and 
Brin,  treed  the  wild-cat.  Some  mornings  Legs  and  Brin 
would  come  along  with  Freck  after  the  oxen.  -Legs  was 
a  long-legged  half-hound  and  Brin  was  a  heavy-set,  stub- 
nosed,  little  brindled  bulldog.  Legs,  with  his  nose  to  the 
ground,  would  gallop  off  over  the  hills,  and  at  intervals 
he  would  send  out  a  call ;  but  whether  it  was  a  cry  for  help 
or  a  wail  of  joy  could  not  be  told.  But  Brin  would  tag 
along  at  Freck^s  heels,  and  when  Freck  would  sit  on  the 
old  mossy  logs  and  listen  for  the  great  ox-bell,  and  hear 
only  the  voices  of  the  woods,  Brin  would  crouch  at  his 
feet.  This  morning  Brin  must  have  smelled  the  battle 
from  afar,  for  he  trotted  off  after  Legs.  Soon  Legs  sent 
out  a  cry.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  cry  this  time.  It 
surely  said,  "Help !  help !  help  !"  Freck  hastened  across 
the  creek  on  the  drift  and  along  the  bank  until  he  came  in 
sight  of  Legs  galloping  around  in  a  frenzy  of  excitement 
and  calling,  "Help !  help !  help !"  But  Brin  was  sitting 
on  his  haunches  with  his  head  on  one  side,  looking  into 
the  top  of  a  slim  hickory;  and  there  clung  the  wild-cat. 
Freck  with  due  caution  approached  the  root  of  the  tree, 
and  looking  at  Brin,  he  asked,  "Brin,  will  you  stay  with 
me  ?"  And  Brin  turned  his  head  a  little  more  to  one  side, 
which  was  Brin's  way  of  saying,  "Bet  yer  sweet  life  I  '11 
stay  with  yer."  Freck  gave  the  tree  a  vigorous  shake,  and 
the  cat  hit  the  ground  on  the  run;  but  Legs  was  upon 
it,  and  in  half  a  jiffy  that  cat  was  on  its  back,  and  its 
legs  were  flying  and  its  jawrs  were  snapping,  and  Legs 
tore  himself  loose  from  the  cat's  embrace  and  broke  for 


36  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

the  rear,  yelling,  "Help  !  help  !  help !"  But  before  the  *cat 
could  adjust  itself,  Brin  came  up  and  poked  his  nose 
under  its  chin,  opened  and  closed  his  jaws,  walked  off, 
crouched  on  his  belly,  and  rested  his  jaws  on  his  paws. 
But  he  was  a  sight  to  behold — great  rents  torn  by  the 
wicked  claws  of  the  wild-cat.  But  there  was  no  whimper 
from  Brin;  he  rested  his  jaws  on  his  paws  and  murmured 
not. 

With  a  feeling  that  he  had  no  longer  a  home  to  come 
to,  Freck  rode  away  over  the  lonely  mail-route.  And  the 
same  feeling,  many  time?  intensified,  like  a  millstone,  is 
upon  his  heart  to-night.  And  his  heart  cries,  "I  'm  alone ; 
I  have  no  longer  a  home !" 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Freck's  midway  stopping-place,  where  he  stayed  over 
night  going  and  coming,  was  at  John  Mack's,  where  the 
trail  crossed  the  Oskaloosa  road,  near  Waugh's  Point,  an 
elbow  of  timber  jutting  out  into  Gray's  Prairie;  seven  miles 
across,  without  a  house.  On  one  of  his  trips  Freck's  sad- 
dle broke,  and  he  threw  it  away  at  Bloomfield  and  rode 
the  return  trip,  eighty  miles,  bareback.  At  Washington 
a  saddle  was  to  be  ready  Wednesday  morning;  but  it  was 
not  ready.  But  the  mail  had  to  go,  so  Freck  mounted  and 
rode  away ;  making  the  round  trip,  one  hundred  and  sixty 
miles,  or,  in  all,  two  hundred  and  forty  miles,  bareback, 
that  the  mail  might  go.  I  guess  the  Father  did  know  that 
Freck  would  do  his  duty. 

John  Mack  was  a  good-natured,  jolly  old  fellow. 
Mother  Mack  was  pleasant  and  kind,  and  reminded  Freck 
of  Mother.  Sarah  Jane  was  twenty  and  cheerful,  and  sang 
hymns  almost  all  the  time.  Sam  and  Jim  and  Freck  were 
boy  friends. 

A  boy  with  a  melancholy  disposition  and  a  kindly  dis- 
posed horse,  if  isolated  from  their  kind  and  much  together, 
will  become  greatly  attached,  and  in  making  these  long 
ami  lonely  trips  across  the  prairies  and  through  the  gloomy 
woods  Freck  and  Bett  became  real  comrades;  Freck  would 
talk  to  Bett,  and  Bett  would  make  licliovo  that  shr  under- 
stood. Frock,  to  rest  Bett,  would  walk  down  and  up  the 
steep  hills  and  turn  Bett  loose  on  the  trail ;  but  Bett  never 


EEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  37 

left  Freck,  but  would  wait  for  him  to  come  up.  But  the 
horse  (and  I  will  include  the  boy)  falls  far  short  of  the 
dog  in  constancy.  The  most  faithful  friend  on  earth  is 
the  dog.  A  friend  may  prove  false,  a  child  unreliable;  a 
wife  may  desert  and  go  off  with  another;  but  the  dog  never 
fails.  A  man's  dog  stays  with  him  to  the  bitter  end.  A  cruel 
and  drunken  master  may  kick  and  cuff  and  starve  his  dog; 
the  faithful  and  famishing  beast  will  crawl  off  and  seek  a 
bone,  return  to  his  cruel  master,  crouch  at  his  feet,  and 
lick  his  hand. 

One  day  as  Freck  was  coming  along  the  trail,  in  the 
thick  brushy  river  hills,  he  came  face  to  face  with  Jim. 
Jim  had  fetched  Jenny  to  exchange  for  Bett,  to  give  Bett 
a  rest.  Freck  learned  that  the  folks  had  settled  on  Bowen's 
Prairie,  near  Clark's  Point,  on  the  Big  Cedar,  two  days' 
ride  west  of  the  place  of  meeting.  In  thirty  minutes  from 
their  meeting,  the  saddles  were  changed  and  Jim  was  rid- 
ing Bett  to  the  westward  and  Freck  was  riding  Jenny  to 
the  northward;  so  they  passed  from  each  other's  sight,  each 
to  perform  the  duties  of  life. 

One  day  when  Freck  rode  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  in  the 
•middle  of  Dutch  Creek  Prairie,  he  rode  right  into  a  band 
of  Indians.  They  were  strung  along  the  trail  for  half  a 
mile,  and  it  was  a  mighty  lonely  place  for  a  boy  toi  meet  a 
band  of  Indians  alone;  but  Freck  turned  out  of  the  trail 
and  gave  them  the  right  of  way,  and  they  passed  on. 

The  North  Skunk  Eiver  was  forded  below  Warner's 
Mill  dam,  and  often  the  river  would  be  at  flood  tide;  Freck 
would  remove  the  saddle  and  turn  his  horse  into  the  flood, 
and  she  would  swim  across,  and  the  miller  would  tie  her 
and  ferry  Freck  and  the  mail  over  in  his  "dugout." 

The  South  Skunk  Eiver  was  a  deep,  sluggish  stream, 
and  was  crossed  on  a  rope  ferry.  Old  man  McEwing  and 
his  white-haired  wife  lived  in  a  rude  cabin  among  the  trees 
on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  the  nearest  neighbor  was 
three  miles  away.  The  old  man  was  still  a  hunter  and  a 
trapper,  and  made  an  excuse  of  running  the  ferry  for  liv- 
ing so  far  away.  But  not  a  score  of  teams  crossed  during 
the  summer,  and  because  the  old  man's  eyesight  had  failed, 
and  his  nerves  were  not  so  steady,  and  the  deer  and  wild 
turkey  were  more  watchful,  the  old  couple  many  times 
went  to  bed  supperless.  At  times  Freck  would  come  to  the 
bank  and  shout  and  wait,  but  the  old  man  would  be  out 


38  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

looking  for  the  supper  they  didn't  have  last  night,  and 
Freck!  would  see  the  sun  moving  along  the  sky  and  see  the 
winding  trail  stretching  away  before  him.  Then  Freck 
would  throw  the  mail-bag  around  his  neck  to  keep  it  out 
of  the  water,  and  remove  his  feet  from  the  stirrups  so  that 
he  could  not  bear  his  weight  on  one  side  and  turn  his  horse 
bottom  side  up,  should  he  lose  his  head;  and  Jenny  would 
plunge  off  the  landing-logs  and  go  under  all  but  her  head, 
and  the  water  would  come  up  around  Freck' s  armpits;  but 
she  would  come  to  the  top  and  pull  for  the  shore.  Xow, 
had  Freck  been  thrown  from  the  saddle,  he  would  have 
gone  to  the  bottom  like  a  green  elm  log;  for  he  couldn't 
swim  a  rod. 

Freck  crossed  the  Des  Moines  River  two  miles  above 
Ottumwa,  the  county  seat  of  Wapello  County,  at  Overtones 
Ferry. 

All  mail  for  the  interior  was  delivered  by  steamboats 
at  points  along  the  Mississippi  River,  and  was  carried  back 
along  certain  lines  by  four-horse  stages;  for  there  were  no 
railroads  west  of  the  Mississippi  River  in  those  days,  and 
it  was  some  fifteen  years  later  before  a  railroad  ventured 
to  cross  the  State. 

An  old-time  four-horse  Concord  stage  ran  out  from 
Burlington,  through  Mount  Pleasant,  Fairfield,  Agency 
City  (so  named  because  an  Indian  agency  was  here),  Ot- 
niinwa,  Eddyville,  Oskaloosa,  and  on  up  to  Fort  Dodge, 
on  the  border  and  a  kind  of  Indian  town.  The  early-day 
drivers  of  those  four-horse  Concord- stages  were  person- 
ages of  vast  importance;  they  carried  a  great  tin  horn, 
which  was  blown  long  and  loud  when'  entering  a  town  or 
starting  down  a  big  hill.  And  when  the  country  boy, 
trudging  along  by  the  side  of  the  oxen,)  heard  this  horn. 
he  would  make  frantic  efforts  to  get  his  oxen  out  of  the 
way  before  the  great  lumbering  stage,  swaying  from  side 
to  si'k-.  came  thundering  down  the  hill. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

John  Mack's  folks  were  "United  Brethren,"  and  in 
the  fall  there  were  meetings  of  this  denomination  in  the 
school-house.  One  evening  Mother  Mack,  Sarah  Jane, 
Sam,  and  Jim  were  going  to  meeting,  and  Sarah  Jane  per- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  39 

sun ded  Freck  to  go  along.  Xow  Freck  was  sixteen,  and 
h<ul  never  attended  meetings  other  than  Seceder  meetings 
in  all  his  life.  Conscience  said,  "Freck,  don't  go,"  but 
Sarah  Jane  said,  "Freck,  do  come,"  and  Freck  went. 
Mother  Mack  tried  to  persuade  John  to  go,  but  he  wouldn't. 
You  see,  someone  had  trodden  on  John's  toe.  John  hadn't 
i^onr  oil!  with  the  goats,  but  he  refrained  from  feeding  with 
the  sheep,  and  went  limping  around  on  the  range  by 
himself. 

Before  the  preaching  there  was  "experience  meeting." 
Now  in  our  Seceder  meetings  no  one  talks  but  the  minister ; 
but  here  old  and  young,  men  and  women,  rose  up  and 
talked  out  loud.  Freck  was  astounded  at  this  unseemly 
conduct  in  the  meeting-house.  Even  Mother  Mack  and 
Sarah  Jane  had  something  to  say.  And  Freck  had 
thought  them  good  people.  When  a  tall,  spare  woman 
near  Freck  rose  up  and,  with  tears  running  down  her 
cheeks,  said,  "My  sins  are  all  taken  away,"  and  an  old 
bald-headed  man  cried,  "Yes!  yes!  Bless  the  Lord!  His 
blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin,"  Freck's  astonishment  gave 
place  to  indignation,  and  he  was  ready  to  hold  the  gar 
ments  of  those  who  would  fling  the  stones. 

But  the  climax  of  unholy  disorder  was  reached  when 
the  meeting  was  dismissed.  In  our  Seceder  meetings,  when 
the  minister  held  up  his  hand,  we  all  stood  with  bowed 
heads;  and  when  he  said,  "Go  with  each  one  to  their  re- 
spective places  of  abode.  Amen,"  we  all  filed  out  in  silence. 
If  a  friend  wras  recognized,  it  was  with  a  slight  inclina- 
tion of  the  head.  Sometimes,  in  passing  out,  a  boy  would 
sneak  a  sidelong  glance,  and  the  girl  would  blush,  and  the 
boy  would  look  foolish.  But  here  they  mingled  and  talked 
and  shook  hands  and  laughed  out  loud  in  the  meeting- 
house. Freck  slipped  out  with  a  feeling  of  condemnation. 
But  presently  Sarah  Jane  came  up  and  in  her  cheery  way, 
just  like  at  home  and  hadn't  been  to  meeting  at  all,  said, 
"Well,  Freck,  I  'm  ready  to  see  you  home,"  and  began  to 
talk  about  such  a  good  meeting;  then  suddenly,  she  asked, 
"Freck,  how  did  you  enjoy  the  meeting?"  Just  then  Sam 
and  Jim  and  other  boys  raced  pas.t,  and  Freck  galloped  off 
with  them,  leaving  the  question  unanswered  and  Sarah 
Jane  to  walk  home  alone. 

John  and  Freck,  by  different  ways  and  from  different 
motives,  reached  the  same  decision — namely,  to  attend 


40  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

these  meetings  no  more.  Jolly  old  John  died  the  next 
summer.  Whether  his  toe  had  healed  I  know  not;  but  it 
is  doubtful,,  because  he  refused  to  use  the  remedy.  And 
you  know  that  in  bad  cases  it  was  to  be  used  "seventy  times 
seven." 

Just  as  the  hand  of  Morning  was  painting  the  eastern 
sky  with  streaks  of  red,  and  making  the  nooks  and  corners 
to  the  westward  look  dark  and  suspicious,  Freck  rode  out 
of  Bloomfield.  The  murky  sky  was  hanging  close  to  the 
ground,  and  the  morning  was  gloomy  and  threatening. 
Just  as  he  gained  the  summit  of  the  Fox  River  hill,  the 
sun  rose  from  his  couch,  and  with  a  red  and  watery  eye  he 
took  one  hasty  look  at  the  cheerless  world,  pulled  down 
the  cloud  curtains,  and  shut  himself  in.  A  fleet  <  f  dark 
clouds  were  slipping  noiselesly  along  overhead,  wearing  a 
foreboding  countenance,  and  by  the  time  Freck  had  crossed 
Fox  River  Prairie,  the  clouds,  like  a  great  tent,  had  closed 
down  to  the  ground  and  a  cold,  drizzly  fall  rain  had  set  in. 

Freck  rode  into  the  dark,  gloomy  Soap  Creek  woods; 
the  rain  pattering  down  and  dripping  from  his  dejected 
hat  into  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  his  horse  sinking  fet- 
lock deep  into  the  soft  ground.  Rivulets  of  muddy  water 
ran  down  the  hillsides,  and  when  he  rode  into  Big  Soap 
Creek,  there  was  a  streak  of  muddy  water  on  each  side ; 
he  drew  rein  in  the  clear  streak,  but  Jenny  shook  her  head 
and  refused  to  drink.  The  chill v  rain  drenched  the  sod- 
den earth,  and  the  jostled  bushes  by  the  side  of  the  trail 
sent  down  showers  of  big  drops  on  Freck  and  Jenny. 
Freck  and  Jenny  plodded  on,  hour  after  hour  and  mile 
after  mile,  sloshing  through  the  miry  sloughs  and  wading 
the  overflowing  streams,  through  the  dense  woods  for 
twenty  miles;  and  no  face  nor  form  of  human  bein^-  was 
seen.  Freck  and  Jenny  were  just  one  little  cog  in  the 
great  wheel  of  the  postal  system  of  the  United  States  of 
America. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Uncle  Don  and  Aunt  Martha  were  Campbellites,  and 
lived  on  a  farm  two  miles  from  town.  Uncle  Don  said. 
"Freck,  when  the  folks  move  awsiy.  I  will  ford  you  and 
your  horse  for  your  work  Monday  and  Tuesday."  So 
Freck's  home  was  with  Uncle  Don  and  Aunt  Martha  three 
days  in  each  week. 

One  Monday  morning,   while  the  stars  were  shining 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  41 

and  the  frost  was  glistening,  Uncle  Don  and  Freek  yoked 
the  big  dun  oxen  and  pulled  out  for  Bunker's  Mill,  on 
English  River,  twenty  miles  across  the  pniiric.  without  a 
house  on  the  way.  At  night  they  spread  their  blankets  on 
the  mill  floor  and,  listening  to  the  rumbling  of  the  mill 
and  the  rushing  of  the  water,  they  fell  asleep.  At  three  in 
the  morning  the  miller  cried,  ifYour  grist  is  ground." 
And  giving  the  oxen  an  early  breakfast,  they  started  for 
home. 

Many  times  the  settlers  would  go  twenty  miles  to  mill, 
and  the  wheel  would  be  frozen  fast;  then  they  would  have 
to  fetch  the  unground  grain  home  and  wait  for  a  thaw. 
Meantime  corn  and  wheat  would  be  ground  on  the  coffee- 
mill,  and  many  meals  were  eaten  without  a  morsel  of  bread. 
How  little  do  the  present  generation  know  of  the  hardships 
and  the  privations  endured  by  the  early  settlers  on  the 
western  frontier! 

One  Saturday  evening  Freck  carried  the  mail-bag  in 
at  the  rear  side  door  and  delivered  it  to  the  postmaster — 
for  the  last  time;  for  the  end  had  come.  And  he  rode  out 
past  the  old  home  to  Uncle  Don's  for  the  last  time ;  and  on 
Monday  morning  he  bade  Uncle  Don  and  Aunt  Martha 
good-bye  for  the  last  time,  and  mounted  his  horse  and  rode 
away  to  seek  his  Father's  house.  Abraham  went  out  from 
his  father's  house  not  knowing  wheresoever  he  was  going. 
Freck  knew  that  he  should  go  to  Bowen's  Prairie,  nea. 
Clark's  Point,  on  Big  Cedar,  and  that  was  all ;  but  no  fear 
of  the  result  disturbed  his  mind.  And  the  lovely  smoky 
fall  weather,  with  the  sun  shimmering  down  through  the 
haze,  and  the  wide  prairies  dotted  with  the  late  wild  sun- 
flowers— all  things  combined  to  make  the  heart  of  a  boy 
throb  with  gladness.  All  the  first  day  Freck  trotted  along 
with  a  song  in  his  heart ;  and  the  refrain  was,  "I  'm  going 
home !  I  'm  going  home !" 

Freck,  as  boy  and  man,  was  of  a  hopeful  nature  and 
loved  to  look  on  the  silver  lining  of  the  dark  cloud;  but, 
as  boy  and  man,  without  any  earthly  cause  therefor,  a 
wave  of  melancholy  sadness  would  come  creeping  higher 
and  higher,  until  it  would  roll  over  him,  shutting  out  the 
sunshine  and  the  gladness.  And  while  in  the  clutches  of 
this  melancholy,  as  boy  and  as  man,  he  was  a  double  (I  de- 
spair of  making  myself  understood),  seemingly  a  real  in- 
visible sub-conscious  Freck :  and  thev  would  accuse  or  ex- 


42  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

cuse  each  other.  And,  as  boy  and  as  man.,  while  under  the 
spell  of  this  depression,  the  fountain  of  tears  would  fill  to 
the  brain,  and  a  pebble  would  send  the  waves  flowing  over 
at  the  low  places  all  along  the  banks.  Now,  I  account  for 
it  in  this  way :  Undoubtedly  there  was,  away  back  yonder 
along  the  ancestral  trail,  a  sweet  and  gentle  woman  from 
whose  pleasant  and  happy  life  the  bright  star  of  hope  had 
been  suddenly  blotted  out,  and  evermore  thereafter  her 
frail  bark  was  tossed  about  on  the  waves  ofl  the  Sea  of  De- 
spair. And  from  her  troubled  life  she  paid  out  a  silken 
cord  of  hereditary  melancholy  sadness;  the  silken  cord  had 
touched  at  transmitting  stations,  and  Freck,  at  the  end  of 
the  line,  received  the  sad  and  tender  messages. 

The  second  day,  at  noon,  Freck  was  ferried  over  the 
Des  Homes  River  and  rode  away  into  the  brushy  hills; 
mile  after  mile,  the  little  mare  picked  her  steps  along  the 
stumpy  trail.  The  big  red  sun  with  much  labor  was  push- 
ing his  way  through  the  smoky  atmosphere  toward  the 
place  of  his  going  down;  there  was  a  foreboding  murmur- 
ing of  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops,  the  trees  shook  their  heads 
and  whispered,  and  the  wind  sobbed;  the  turtle-dove  cooed 
her  mournful  coo;  the  sun  hid  his  face  behind  the  tallest 
trees ;  and  the  little  mare  with  drooping  head  slowly  passed 
along  the  lonely  trail.  And  not  a  sound  of  human  voice 
or  sigh  of  human  habitation  since  crossing  the  river.  The 
silken  cord  began  to  vibrate,  and  Freck's  heartstrings  felt 
the  tingling  touch  of  sadness ;  the  fountain  was  filling  up, 
and  there  was  a  constricting  of  the  throat.  Freck  feared 
to  look  at  the  great  reel  sun,  who  seemed  to  be  making  haste 
to  get  beyond  the  gloomy  woods  before  the  darkness  set 
in,  lest  the  fountain  should  overflow  the  banks.  Suddenly, 
as  clear  as  a  bell  and  as  sweet  as  an  angel's,  came  the  voice 
of  n  woman  in  song.  And  the  song  pebble  sent  the  wave? 
over  the  banks  all  along.  A  portion  of  the  song  got  tangled 
in  Freck's  heartstrings,  and  has  remained  tangled  until 
ih  is  day.  The  first  words  were  clear,  but  Freck  had  never 
heard  them  : 

"TTow  tedious  and  tasteless  the  hours 

When  Jesus  no  longer  T  see! 
Sweet  prospects,  sweet  birds,  and  sweet  flowers 
Have  all  lost  their  sweetness  with  me." 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  43 

Then  the  voice  sank  into  a  murmur.  A  bend  in  the  trail 
brought  Freak  facing  a  little  cabin  and  a  little  field,  the 
corn  shocked  around  the  deadened  trees  and  tied  with  bark. 
A  woman  was  passing  out  and  in  at  the  door  of  the  cabin, 
performing  her  evening  work ;  stepping  in,  her  voice  would 
be  but  a  murmur,  and  coming  out,  it  was  clear  and  sweet. 

"Scattering  precious  seed  by  the  wayside; 
Scattering  precious  seed  on  the  hillside; 
Scattering  precious  seed  o'er  the  fields  wide; 
Scattering  precious  seed  by  the  way." 

This  woman  knew  not  that  she  was  scattering  precious  seed 
in  the  heart  of  a  lonely,  homesick  boy  that  would  abide 
with  him  "even  down  to  old  age."  Several  years  passed 
before  Freck  again  heard  the  song;  but  when  he  did,  the 
great  red  sun,  the  stumpy  trail,  the  little  cabin,  the  lonely, 
homesick  boy  with  the  tears  trinkling  down  his  face,  and 
the  angel  voice  of  the  woman,  all  passed  before  him  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye. 

When  Freck  came  out  of  the  woods  onto  Sunrise 
Prairie,  the  silken  cord  had  ceased  to  vibrate  and  the  foun- 
tain had  subsided  within  its  banks,  and  he  was  seeing  the 
silver  lining  and  humming  the  new  song.  He  rode  on  a 
few  miles  and  stopped  at  a  cabin  and  stayed  over  night. 
An  old  man  and  his  old  wife  lived  here  all  alone.  Their 
children  had  married  and  left  them.  They  had  gone  forth 
to  do  as  their  parents  had  done:  to  build  homes,  and  toil 
through  the  heat  and  the  cold  storms  of  winter ;  to  walk  the 
floor  at  the  midnight  hour,  caring  for  sons  and  daughters, 
and  be  left  alone  in  their  old  age.  These  dear  old  people 
(for  Freck  remembers  them  as  such)  were  kind  to  Freck 
and  made  him  feel  that  he  was  a  boy  of  affairs,  because  he 
had  remained  from  home  so  long  and  had  performed  the 
task  entrusted  to  his  care.  These  dear  old  people — yes,  T 
remember  their  names :  his  first  name  was  the  same  as  that 
of  the  disciple  who  sat  at  the  place  of  toll,  and  his  last  was 
the  same  as  that  of  the  northwest  county  of  Missouri;  her 
name  was  the  same  as  Mrs.  George  Washington's.  They 
confided  to  Freck  that  thev  were  Seceders — or,  rather,  that 
the  dear  old  lady  was,  and  that  the  old  man  had  been  for 
more  than  fifty  vears.  But,  alas!  someone  had  set  his  foot 
on  the  old  man's  toe,  and  after  feeding  with  the  flock  in 


44  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

pastures  green  and  by  the  still  waters  for  fifty  years,  he 
was  now  browsing  along  the  hedges  where  the  pasture  was 
short  and  the  water  was  bad.  And  he  justified  his  course : 
because  a  man  wholly  unfit  had  been  elected  a  ruling  elder; 
because  he  was  ambitious  to  wear  the  bell;  and  because  he 
was  the  minister's  father-in-law.  And  when  Freck  was 
just  falling  into  a  boyish  sleep,  the  Devil  tiptoed  to  the 
side  of  the  bed  and  whispered :  "Freck,  I  '11  bet  you  that 
the  old  man  wanted  to  wear  the  bell  himself." 

In  the  morning  Freck  bade  the  dear  old  folks  good- 
bye for  the  last  time.  In  the  evening  he  rode  up  to  his 
Father's  house,  and  there  was  a  glad  meeting.  The  Moth- 
er said:  "Well,  Robbie,  how  you  have  changed!"  Soon 
Freck  went  down  to  the  barn  to  see  Bett,  never  doubting 
that  Bett  would  be  overjoyed  to  see  him;  but  when  he  put 
his  arms  around  her  neck  and  rubbed  his  face  against  her 
nose  and  called  her  by  name,  she  gave  no  sign  of  recogni- 
tion, but  munched  her  hay  and  cared  nothing  for  the  old 
times.  And  Freck  felt  disappointed  and  hurt.  But  not 
so  with  old  Shep.  He  bounded  from  his  bed  in  the  hay. 
and  put  his  arms  around  Freck' s  neck  and  licked  his  hands 
and  his  face,  and  said,  just  as  plainly  as  a  dog  could  say  it : 
"Oh,  Freck !  Freck !  I  'm  so  glad  you  have  come  home !" 

There  was  a  double  cabin  on  Bowen's  Prairie,  and 
Uncle  John  and  Aunt  Anna  lived  in  one  of  them.  Aunt 
Anna  was  the  Mother's  sister,  and  no  boy  has  had  a  better 
aunt.  Aunt  .Anna  had  four  boys,  and  John  and  Freck 
were  boy  chums.  Aunt  Anna's  only  daughter  had  married 
Tom  Hend,  and  they  lived  over  on  Pleasant  Divide,  near 
the  Srreder  country  meeting-house,  with  a  graveyard  at 
the  hack.  It  was  four  miles  to  the  meeting-house,  but  we 
went  to  meeting  every  Sabbath,  and  stayed  for  two  long 
nons.  At  intermission,  the  time  between  sermons,  the 
horses  and  oxen  were  given  their  corn,  and  the  people  would 
stand  around  and  quietly  oat  some  broad  and  cheese,  and 
pome  would  talk  over  the  sermon,  and  then  all  string  off 
down  lo  the  spring  am1  one  hy  one  drink  from  the  same 
gourd.  In  the  lone;  summer  afternoons  the  neighing  of 
the  horses  (for  the  woods  were  full  of  horses,  as  the  people 
came  from  afar,  in  wagons  and  carls  and  horseback)  would 
float  in  through  the  open  windows,  and  Freek.  in  a  kind 
of  dream,  would  hear  them  calling:  "Freck!  Frock!  Tome 
down  into  the  cool,  shady  woods.  Don't  von  hoar  the 


liK-MLNlbCENCES   OF    PlONEER   J.I  11.  45 

voices?  Tin-  wind  is  whispering  to  the  trees,  and  the  trees 
are  smiling,  and  the  birds  are  singing,  and  the  squirrels 
are  waiting  and  wondering  why  you  don't  come."  l-'nvk 
would  dream  on,  and  listen  to  the  voices,  and  hear  only 
the  droning  of  the  minister's  voice. 

The  Father  said:  "Freck,  you  and  Will  can  take 
charge  of  the  oxen."  And  Freck  placed  the  yokes  just  as 
though  he  had  not  been  helping  carry  on  the  affairs  of  the 
United  States  for  a  year.  Freck  and  Will  cut  out  the  year, 
and  tied  the  broken  ends  of  the  thread  of  their  lives,  and 
kept  stop  with  the  oxen,  and  gathered  the  flowers  of  boy- 
ish gladness  lying  all  along  their  path.  And  all  through 
the  passing  years  they  toiled  on  side  by  side,  sharing  the 
same  bed  at  home  and  the  same  blankets  on  their  trips  to 
the  Mississippi  Eiver.  But  they  came  to  the  parting  of 
the  way.  For  a  long  time,  without  warning,  there  would 
come  over  Freck  an  impulse  to  mount  his  horse  and  ride 
off  along  the  old  lonely  and  familiar  mail-route;  and  the 
"Jingle !  jingle !  jingle !"  of  the  iron  lock  on  the  iron  staple 
would  sound  in  his  brain  like  sweet  music,  as  when  he 
trotted  along  the  trail  across  the  wide  prairies  or  through 
the  lonely  woods.  Why  was  this? 

In  the  evening,  when  Uncle  John  was  absent,  we  chil- 
dren would  gather  around  Aunt  Anna's  fireside,  and  she 
would  tell  us  tales  of  the  wars  of  Scotland :  Flodden  Field, 
where  ten  thousand  brave  Scotsmen  lay  dead  on  the  dark 
and  bloody  moor,  and  the  battle  of  Bannockburn.  Bannock- 
burn  !  The  very  name  makes  the  pulse  of  a  Scotsman  beat 
a  little  quicker.  Bannockburn,  where  forty  thousand  sons 
of  Scotland,  with  King  Eobert  Bruce  at  their  head,  held 
at  bav  and  put  to  rout  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  of 
King"  Edward's  chosen  English  soldiers.  Again  and  again 
did  Edward  hurl  his  ten  thousand  mailed  horsemen  against 
the  solid  wall  of  Scotish  spears;  again  and  again  they  were 
rolled  back,  until  the  channel  of  the  Bannockburn  was  filled 
to  heaping,  and  the  Scotch  army  passed  over  on  a  bridge 
of  the  dead  and  the  clving.  And  with  spear  and  battle-axe 
they  followed  the  fleeing  Edward,  who  left  thirty  thousand 
dead  on  the  field  of  Bannockburn.  Aunt  Anna  would  tell 
of  Mary.  Queen  of  Scots;  of  Sir  William  Wallace,  the 
lirave :  and  of  John  Eesby,  a  disciple  of  Wickliffe,  who  was 
hurned  alive  at  Perth,  the  first  martyr  in  Scotland.  Freck's 
mother's  father's  name  was  Eobert  McConnaha,  and  from 


46  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

generation  to  generation  a  tradition  has  come  down  that 
six  McConnaha  brothers,  each  more  than  six  feet  tall,  with 
spear  and  battle-axe,  marched  three  on  the  right  hand  and 
three  on  the  left  hand  of  Eobert  Bruce,  the  good  King  of 
Scotland.  And  after  the  sanguinary  battle  of  Bannock- 
burn,  four  of  these  brothers  lay  dead  on  the  battlefield. 

The  Mother  and  Aunt  Anna  were  born  on  the  frontier 
in  the  big  woods  of  western  Pennsylvania,  and  grew  to 
womanhood  in  the  midst  of  toil  and  privation.  There 
were  six  sisters  and  one  brother ;  the  brother  was  born  last, 
after  the  home  had  been  carved  out  of  the  dense  forest. 
The  son  inherited  th  farm  and  occupied  it  until  a  year  ago. 
And  Eobert  the  father  and  Eobert  the  son  plowed  the  same 
fields  for  one  hundred  and  thirteen  years,  and  now  Eobert 
the  son  and  grandson  is  turning  the  same  furrows. 

Freck's  grandfather  was  born  in  1767,  his  grandmoth- 
er in  1777,  and  they  were  married  in  Chester  County,  Penn- 
sylvania, in  1797.  In  1795  the  Shenango  Indians  ceded 
their  land,  and  the  land  was  opened  for  settlement  in  1796. 
Michael  Marshall  and  Hugh  Fletcher  were  the  first  white 
men  to  settle  in  the  Shenango  country.  They  "came  in'7 
in  1796,  and  in  1797  Freck's  grandfather  "came  in."  John 
Gallagher  and  John  Ewing  "came  in"  on  foot,  carrying 
their  possessions  and  a  peck  of  salt  apiece  on  their  backs. 
In  1798  James  Dickey  traded  a  gun  and  a  powder-horn 
and  a  blanket  for  one  hundred  acres  of  land. 

On  this  wise  Freck's  grandparents  "came  in":  They 
owned  a  horse  and  a  side-saddle.  The  plunder  was  made 
into  two  bundles  and  placed  across  the  saddle,  and  Grand- 
mother (who  had  just  slipped  past  twenty)  took  her  seat 
in  the  saddle.  Grandfather,  axe  in  hand,  went  before,  and 
where  the  brush  was  too  thick  he  chopped  a  path.  So  they 
came  into  the  land  of  the  Shenangos.  A  cabin  was  built 
and  the  big  trees  were  cut  down  and  an  opening  was  made 
in  the  forest,  through  which  the  snn  shone  on  the  ground. 
The  horse  was  exchanged  for  a  yoke  of  oxen,  and  the  big 
log?  were  rolled  together  into  heaps  and  burned.  Year  by 
year  the  opening  was  made  a  little  larger,  and  corn  and 
beans  and  other  stuff  planted  among  the  stvmips  and  the 
roots.  The  flax  was  planted,  pulled,  scutched,  hackled, 
spun,  and  wove,  and  the  wool  was  hand-carded  and  made 
into  garments.  The  sheep,  the  calves,  and  the  pig?  were 
guarded  from  the  wolves  and  the  hears,  and  the  children 
from  the  panthers;  hut,  with  all  the  care,  manv  lambs. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  47 

pigs,  and  calves  were  carried  off,  and  once  a  child  was  car- 
ried away  by  a  panther,  and  only  bits  of  her  dress  were 
found.  The  years  multiplied,  and  the  children  increased 
nnumber  and  in  stature,  and  each  from  infancy  put  forth 
-every  energy  to  induce  the  clay  soil  to  yield  the  full  ear  011 
the  stalks;  but  with  the  unremitting  encouragement  given, 
the  stubborn  soil  repaid  the  husbandman  and  his  children 
only  in  "nubbins." 

But  the  dark  forest  treated  the  early  settlers  more 
kindly  and  with  greater  generosity.  It  was  liberal  in  the 
bestowal  of  savory  meats — bear  meat,  coon,  groundhog, 
squirrel,  and  wild  turkey.  Powder  and  balls  were  not 
plentiful,  and  traps  and  snares  of  many  kinds  were  brought 
into  use.  For  the  wild  turkey  a  log  pen  was  built  and 
covered  with  brush;  a  trench  was  dug,  leading  under  one 
side  and  terminating  abruptly  in  the  inside  of  the  pen, 
and  grain  was  strewn  in  the  trench;  the  turkeys  would 
follow  along  and  hop  into  the  pen,  and  when  they  wanted 
to  come  out,  they  always  looked  up,  and  never  saw  the 
trench.  A  favorite  bear-trap  was  to  place  two  large  logs 
side  by  side,  with  a  narrow  space  between;  over  the  space 
a  log  was  suspended  on  a  baited  trigger,  and  when  the  bear 
crept  in  and  pulled  the  bait,  down  came  the  log  on  his 
back. 

Grandfather  and  Grandmother  spent  a  lifetime  of  toil 
in  clearing  a  place  in  the  dark  forest  for  the  sun  to  shine 
tli rough,  and  in  rearing  a  family  of  six  upright  and  God- 
fearing daughters  and  one  son;  and  four  of  those  daugh- 
ters wore  out  their  lives  on  the  western  frontier.  The  son 
inherited  the  farm ;  from  which  they  had  not  been  two  score 
miles  since  Grandfather,  a  young  man,  and  Grandmother, 
a  girl  wife,  had  dismounted  and  removed  the  bundles  from 
the  back  of  the  horse,  and  built  their  first  cabin. 

Most  of  the  early  settlers  in  the  Shenango  country 
were  Seceders,  and  were  Scotch  or  of  Scotch  ancestry ;  so 
it  was  not  long  until  a  church  was  organized.  The  earliest 
record  is  dated  March  30,  1801.  But  no  doubt  these  hardy 
pioneers  met,  and  the  Psalms  of  David  were  sung  and 
prayers  were  offered  in  these  dark  woods,  much  earlier. 

The  first  minister  was  a  young  man,  "Rev.  Daniel 
McLean.  He  "came  in"  in  1800,  and  stopped  with  Michael 
Marshall ;  the  meat  served  at  meals  was  raccoon.  The 
preaching  was  in  the  cabins  and  the  woods  until  1801;  then 


48  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

a  log  meeting-house  was  built.  In  1818  a  frame  meeting- 
house was  built;  the  first  frame  building  in  the  Shenango 
country.  The  church  records  show  that  the  congregation 
agreed  to  pay  the  Rev.  Daniel  McLean  the  sum  of  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-five  pounds,  Pennsylvania  currency,  a  year. 
The  Rev.  Daniel  McLean  served  this  people  for  fifty-five 
years.  For  fifty-five  years  he  administered  to  them  the 
sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper,  he  buried  their  dead,  he 
baptized  their  babies,  and  many  of  these  babies  he  united 
in  marriage  and  baptized  their  babies.  He  it  was  who 
united  the  Father  and  the  Mother,  and  Uncle  John  and 
Aunt  Anna,  and  baptized  all  their  children  save  one.  He 
stood  up  in  the  pulpit  in  the  frame  meeting-house,  which 
he  had  occupied  for  thirty-seven  years,  and  preached  a  ten- 
der farewell  sermon ;  and  thirty  days  thereafter  he  was  laid 
to  rest  in  the  old  Seceder  graveyard,  back  of  the  old  meet- 
ing-house. 

In  1844  Grandmother  bade  an  eternal  farewell  to  the 
scenes  of  her  earth  life,  and  in  1847  Grandfather  laid  down 
his  burdens,  and  they  sleep  side  by  side  in  the  olo  Seceder 
graveyard  from  which  they  helped  to  clear  the  trees  in  the 
long,  long  ago. 

^lien  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven,  with  His  holy  angels,  and  the  trump  of  God.  to 
call  His  sleeping  saints,  what  a  host  of  sturdy  old  Chris- 
tian pioneers  will  come  forth  from  this  old  Shenango  bury- 
in  g-ground  ! 

CHAPTER  X. 

Jimmy  Marley !  Jimmy  Marlev  was  an  honest  and 
upright  young  man  of  forty.  No  one  ever  thought  of  say- 
ing, "flood  morning.  Mr.  Marley/'  but  all,  old  and  young. 
men  and  women,  would  say,  "Good  morning,  Jimmy  Mar- 
lev."  Jimmy  Marlev  was  also  a  "Forty-niner."  All  those 
who  rushed  oft  to  the  California  "gold-diggings'"  were  call- 
ed "Fortv-niners."  His  friends  whispered  that  he  returned 
with  fifteen  hundred  dollars  in  gold,  and  in  those  days 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  was  a  fabulous  sum.  But  Jimmy 
Marlev  neither  l>v  word  nor  deed  referred  to  \\\<  wealth.  IT.- 
wore  home-pun,  and  came  to  the  table  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
ate  with  his  knife,  poured  hi?  coffer  into  the  saucer,  and 
placed  the  eup  in  the  little  dish  provided  for  the  purpose— 


REMINISCENCES  OF  I'IONEEK  LIFE  49 

just  like  we  did.  But  Jimmy  ILarley  did  take  pleasure  in 
saying,  "Boys,  1  went  to  the  diggings  by  ship,  around  the 
Horn."  But  we  knew  not  the  meaning  oi  "around  the 
Horn."  And  he  loved  to  tell  about  the  "Dutch  Flats/'  and 
the  rough  life — the  gambling,  the  shooting,  the,  stabbing, 
and  the  hanging  of  men  for  robbing  sluice-boxes.  Then 
Jimmy  Marlcy  would  sing  a  song,  "Oh,  those  days  of  old, 
ilmsi'  days  of  gold,  those  days  of  forty-nine!" 

In  after  years  Freck  passed  through  the  "Dutch 
Flats/'  the  scene  of  the  California  "diggings"  of  the  early 
days.  Many  of  the  old  miners'  cabins  were  still  standing, 
and  Chinamen  were  panning  the  old  dumps.  Over  the 
mountain-side  lay  the  old  tapering  pipes  used  in  hydraulic 
mining.  And  the  mountain-sides  were  torn  and  trees  rooted 
up  and  great  rocks  hurled  to  the  gulch  below  bv  the  mighty 
force  of  the  water.  Smaller  trenches  were  dug  with  pick 
and  shovel.  While  standing  in  the  midst  of  the  old  ruins  of 
the  ''Dutch  Flats/7  Freck,  in  his  mind,  as  he  has  sinct  seen 
them  with  eyes  wide  open,  saw  men  running  to  and  fro, 
half  clad  and  covered  with  mud,  carrying  dirt  in  bags  to 
the  streams  and  panning  out  the  glittering  grains  of  gold, 
and  carefully  placing -them  in  the  buckskin  bag  and  put- 
ting the  bag  in  their  bosom.  And  Freck,  in  his  mind,  saw 
the  miners  coming  over  the  mountains  and  out  of  the  deep 
dark  gulches,  wending  their  way  toward  the  camp.  They 
would  clean  up  a  bit,  and  prepare  their  supper;  then  they 
would  examine  the  buckskin  bag  and  place  it  near  the  heart. 
(This  is  no  dream.)  And  then,  some  boldly  and  defiantly, 
others  timidly  and  hesitatingly,  they  would  tarn  their  faces 
toward  the  "Monarch  Saloon  and  Dance  Hall,"  and  some 
boldly,  others  timidly,  would  walk  up  to  the  bar  and  pass 
the  glittering  grains  of  gold  for  liquid  damnation  and  a 
ticket  for  the  dance.  And  the  noisy  galop  and  the  frenzied 
waltz  go  right  on.  Over  in  that  corner  men  are  seated 
around  a  rough  table,  and  piles  of  gold-dust  are  stacked  on 
a  buckskin.  And  on  the  wall  is  a  placard,  on  which  is 
rudely  pencilled:  "STUD  Hoss  POKER/'  The  "stud-hoss" 
poker  queen  sits  on  a  kind  of  throne,  arrayed  in  gorgeous 
apparel ;  and  deals  the  cards — to  her  favorites  from  the 
bottom.  (And  this  is  no  dream,  either.)  There!  Did  you 
hear  that  shot?  Did  you  see  the  gleam  of  that  dagger?  I 
wonder  was  it  my  old  school-mate  Stew  Hay  they  dragged 
out?  Well,  he  sure  was  a  mother's  bov.  And  when  the  sun 


50  REMINISCED  CES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

and  the  stars  and  the  light  of  day  were  growing  dim,  that 
mother  was  still  wondering,  "Oh!  where  is  my  bov  to- 
night?" 

Jimmy  Marley  built  the  first  frame  house  on  Bowen's 
Prairie.  One  morning  Jimmy  Marley  placed  two  chairs 
in  the  wagon,  sat  down  in  one,  and  drove  across  Miller's 
Creek,  up  through  the  woods  onto  Pleasant  Divide,  and 
up  to  the  horse-block;  and  Jane  came  walking  down  the 
path  to  the  gate.  Jane  was  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Port's  oldest 
daughter.  Jane  would  take  no  part  in  the  crowded  sled- 
rides,  behind  the  jingling  bells  and  prancing  horses,  be- 
cause, Jane  said,  a  girl's  place  was  at  home  helping  moth- 
er; and  Jane  had  stayed  at  home  all  of  her  thirty-five  years. 
Jimmy  Marley,  in  his  deep  bass  voice,  said,  "Good  morn- 
ing, Jane."  And  Jane,  in  her  girlish  treble,  said,  "Good 
morning,  Jimmy  Marley."  Jimmy  Marley  clucked  to  his 
horses  and  turned  toward  the  minister's  house,  and  the 
minister  said,  "Jimmy  Marley,  do  you  take  Jane  to  be  your 
lawful  wedded  wife?"  And  Jimmy  Marley,  in  his  deep 
bass  voice,  answered,  "Yes,  sir;  I  do."  "Jane,  do  you  take 
Jimmy  Marley  to  be  your  lawful  wedded  husband?"  And 
Jane,  in  her  girlish  treble,  answered,  "Yes,  sir;  if  you 
please." 

The  cold  winter,  with  its  many  storms,  parsed  by,  and 
the  days  had  been  spent  in  the  timber,  getting  out*  rails. 
.hist  as  the  lovely  Spring;  of  1854  gave  notice  that  she  was 
coming  to  Bowen's  Prairie,  the  Father  sold  out  and  moved 
five  miles,  onto  Half-\*ay  Prairie,  into  Deer  Grove.  This 
summer  Freck  and  Will  were  sent  out  with  six  yoke  of  oxen 
and  the  great  breaking-plow,  with  a  beam  ten  feet  long 
;uid  rigged  on  wheels,  with  a  long  lever  to  gauge  the  depth. 
The  Father  said,  "Boys,  come  home  Saturday  to  attend 
meeting."  And,  regardless  of  the  distance,  they  would 
point  their  leaders  home,  and,  perched  on  the  long  plow, 
they  would  sing  their  boyish  songs,  and  were  happy.  It 
is  not  wealth  nor  ease  that  makes  the  happy  and  contented 
boy.  In  the  fall  they  were  put  to  "teaming"  from  the  Mis- 

ppi  River,  camping  out;  they  could  make  the  trip  in 
two  weeks.  Freck  was  eighteen  and  Will  was  fourteen. 
Hi  it  this  is  the  kind  of  training  boys  with  energetic  fathers 
nvi'ivod  on  the  western  frontier. 

Burlington  was  built  along  the  river  front,  and  the 
freight  was  unloaded  from  steamboats  into  warehouses 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  51 

built  on  stilts  out  into  the  river.  Long  teams  of  oxen 
blocked  the  levee,  each  striving  to  be  next  at  the  door  to 
receive  ilu-ir  freight,  to  be  hauled  away  back  into  the  in- 
terior. The  shouts  of  the-  drivers  were  loud,  and  there  was 
locking-  of  liulis,  and  mixing  up  of  oxen,  and  an  exchange 
of  bad  words,  and  sometimes  there  would  be  bloody  noses. 
The  roads  followed  up  the  ravine  and  wound  around  the 
points  of  the  hills,  seeking  the  easiest  grade  to  the  top  of 
the  river  bluffs.  And  this  is  the  way  we  got  out  of  Burl- 
ington sixty  years  ago. 

The  Father  during  the  winter  would  sell  his  broken 
oxen,  and  ride  around  in  the  different  settlements  and  buy 
unbroken  steers,  to  be  paid  for  the  next  summer  in  break- 
ing prairie.  This  winter  the  Father  pushed  Fieck  to  the 
front,  to  ride  away  and  buy  and  sell  and  trade.  And  Freck 
began  to  feel  the  twinges  of  a  man's  ambition  and  a  man's 
responsibility. 

The  pleasant,  smoky,  hazy  fall  days;  with  the  labor 
and  the  pleasure,  the  sorrow  and  the  gladness,  the  buying 
and  the  selling,  unnoticed  passed  by  and  slipped  over  the 
precipice  of  Time  and  rolled  down  into  the  Ocean  of  the 
Past.  The  young  and  robust  Winter  gathered  December 
in  his  icy  arms  and  came  blustering  and  howling  down 
across  the  prairies  and  blew  his  cold  breath  through  the 
woods,  and  the  trees  swayed  and  trembled,  and  cried  in 
angry  tones  and  in  pleading  moans,  "Let  us  have  peace !" 
But  the  young  giant  was  proud  of  his  strength.,  and  in 
fiendish  pleasure  he  sent  the  snow  in  blinding  sheets  and 
piled  it  in  great  drifts,  and  at  the  sight  of  the  suffering 
he  shrieked  in  very  gladness.  The  snow  settled,  the  sleigh- 
ing was  good,  the  cold  moonlight  was  clear,  and  the  pranc- 
ing horses,  the  jingling  bells,  and  the  happy  young  voices 
were  all  mixed  up  with  the  cold  wintry  air;  for  life  on  the 
frontier  was  not  wholly  a  sand-drifted  desert. 

There  is  no  suffering  like  unto  the  suffering  of  a  bash- 
ful boy,  and  Freck  in  company  was  simply  silly.  The  hap- 
py voices,  the  jingling  bells,  and  the  prancing  horses  would 
halt  before  a  cabin  door.  They  would  open  the  exercises 
of  the  evening  bv  playing  plays,  such  as  "Who  '&  got  the 
button"  or  "I  '11  never  lend  you  my  hackle  again."  When 
the  old  folks  would  spend  the  evening  with  a  neighbor 
(and  they  generallv  started  when  they  heard  the  merry 
voices  and  the  jingling  bells;  for  had  they  permitted  danc- 


52  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

ing,  they  would  have  been  "haled"  before  the  Church  Ses- 
sion), then  an  old  fiddle  would  be  dug  out  from  among 
the  wraps,  and  "Twang-twang'7  and  "Thrum-thrum"  the 
strings  would  go,  and  the  sweet  strains  of  "Old  Dan 
Tucker"  or  "Money  Musk"  would  be  squeezed  out  by  a 
frowzy-headed  boy.  At  times  John  would  goad  Freck  to 
desperation.  When  "Much  Talk/'  standing  with  his  back 
to  the  fire,  would  give  the  command,,  "Choose  your  part- 
ners," Freck,  with  his  brain  in  a  whirl,  would  make  a  blind 
dash  and  grab  the  first  girl  he  came  to,  and  line  up;  and 
when  "Much  Talk"  would  speak  the  words  that  started  the 
feet  to  pounding  the  puncheons,  Freck,  like  a  cow-pony  on 
the  lariat  the  first  time,  would  start  off  on  the  gallop ;  and 
when  all  tangled  up,  the  girls  in  a  half  whisper  would  call, 
"Here,  Freck,  here!  Here,  Freck,  here!"  and  they  would 
lend  him  toward  the  trail  of  "All  hands  'round,"  "Gents  to 
the  center,"  "First  couple  forward  and  back,"  and  in  the 
hurdle  race,  "Promenade  all,"  they  headed  him  away  from 
the  wire  fence:  and  when  "Much  Talk"  would  command, 
"Swing  your  partners,"  Freck,  in  confusion,  would  likely 
grab  the  nearest  bov  and  give  him  a  whirl.  Notwithstand- 
ing all  this,  the  girls  made  believe  they  enjoyed  tripping 
along  over  the  puncheons,  while  he  cantered  along  half 
the  time  out  of  the  trail. 

CHAPTER  XL 

Sister  Lucy- — everyone  in  the  settlement  called  her 
"Sister  Lucy."  Sisi'-r  Lucy  had  i^n-at  diva  my  blue  eyes, 
and  a  low.  soft  voice,  and  a  kind  and  cheerful  word  for 
everyone.  Sister  Lucy  was  not  fussy,  she  didn't  speak  in 
meeting  every  Sunday;  but.  Sister  Lucy  never  flew7  mad 
nor  sulked.  And.it  was  conceded  that  if  there  were  two 
good  women.  Sister  Lucy  was  one  of  them.  Joe  was  Sister 
Lucy's  husband.  He  was:  big  and  careless,  with  long  yel- 
lowish hair,  and  his  cheeks  were  overgrown  with  tangled 
whiskers.  ."Foe  was  always  going  to  do  things — to-morrow; 
to-morrow  lie  would  mend  tin-  cabin  roof;  io-inorro\v  he 
would  remove  the  /ig/a?';  rail  fence  and  build  a  splil  picket 
fence  with  a  -ate  in  front  of  ilic  door;  nnd  fo-morrow  he 
-lire  would  put  rockers  01:  Sister  Lucy's  low  chair;  but  six 
new  years  had  been  borr  and  died  of  old  age,  and  Joe's 
to-morrow  had  not  found  the  way  in.  Joe  was  subject  to 


OJ-     I'luNKI-K    LlFE  53 

"rheumati/,"  and  lister  Lucy  was  apprehensive  of  Joseph's 
health  (SiMer  Luev  always  called  him  "Josi-pli,"'  with  a 
lingering  soft  aceeni),  and  when  the  snow  and  the,  hail 
heal  a^aiii.^t  the  roof,  Sister  Lucy  would  >ay:  "Xo,  no, 
Joseph ;  you  must  not  go  out  in  this  storm."  And  Sister 
Lucy  would  pin  the  old  faded  shawl  over  her  head  and  feed 
the  stock,  pitch  the  w< -<>d  over  the  zigzag  fence,  fetch  the 
water  from  the  spring,  and  split  the  kindling.  Some  of 
the  neighbors  would  say:  "It  is  because  of  Joe's  thought- 
lessness. Poor  Sister  Lucy  !"  And  others  said :  "It  is 
because  of  Joe's  danged  laziness.  Poor  Sister  Lucy !" 

It  is  December,  1854,  and  it  is  ten  years  since  Joe  led 
Sister  Lucy  to  the  altar,  and  it  is  more  than  six  years  since 
Sister  Lucy,  coming  in  from  the  old  churchyard,  where  she 
had  placed  flowers  on  two  tiny  graves,,  threw  her  arms 
around  her  mother's  neck  and,  with  tear-blinded  eyes  and 
choking  voice,  sobbed,  "Good-bye,  mother."  She  took  one 
more  lingering  look  at  the  scenes  of  her  childhood  and  her 
girlhood,  from  which  she  had  not  been  a  score  of  miles  in 
all  her  life;  then,  taking  little  Lucy,  her  first-born,  by  the 
hand,  she  started  out  with  Joseph  to  seek  out  and  build  for 
themselves  a  home  on  the  western  frontier.  But  Sister 
Lucy,  with  her  cheerful  and  hopeful  temperament,  could 
not  remain  long  in  a  state  of  gloom,  and  as  they  drove 
along  the  river  road,  to  board  a  steamboat  for  the  West, 
she  hummed  those  little  songs  so  common  at  the  time : 

"A  cot  in  the  valley,  a  hut  in  the  grove, 
A  home  in  the  wildwood  with  the  one  that  I  love. 
I  care  not  how  humble,  how  lowly  it  be, 
If  one  faithful  heart  only  share  it  with  me." 

And  she  gave  Joseph's  arm  a  little  squeeze.  They  found 
the  valley  on  the  frontier  all  right,  and  they  had  built  the 
cabin  in  the  grove,  but  the  romantic  soul-rest  that  Sister 
Lucy's  dreamy  imagination  had  painted  in  among  the  trees 
and  the  flowers  in  the  wildwood  she  had  not  found.  Xor 
will  it  ever  be  found  until  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Adam 
gather  in  the  Paradise  of  God. 

As  her  custom  was,  Sister  Lucy  arose  on  this  Decem- 
ber morning  and  prepared  the  breakfast  and  the  children 
and  called  Joseph.  The  young  giant  Winter  was!  in  a 
riotous  frame  of  mind,  and  he  swirled  the  snow  and  swayed 


54  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

the  trees  and  howled  around  the  corners  of  the  cabin.  Joe's 
"rlieumatiz"  was  middling  bad;  so  Sister  Lucy  fetched  a 
basin  of  warm  water  and  a  towel  and  held  it  until  Joe 
splashed  the  water  over  his  arms  and  his  face,  over  the 
hearth,  and  over  Sister  Lucy's  dress.  And  she  combed  his 
long  yellowish  hair,  and  let  her  arm  slip  around  his  neck, 
and  touched  her  soft  cheek  against  his  long  hairy  jowl. 
Then  they  gathered  around  the  table,  and  the  children 
folded  their  hands  while  Sister  Lucy  bowed  her  head  and 
said  grace.  Then  Sister  Lucy  slipped  from  her  place  and 
rummaged  in  the  little  corner  cupboard  and  fetched  out 
cups  and  jars  with  some  jellies  and  butters  and  preserves, 
remnants  left  over  from  the  time  the  last  baby  was  born, 
and  scraped  it  all  onto  Joseph's  plate.  Joe  opened  the 
door  and  looked  out  into  the  swirling  snow;  but  Sister 
Lucy  caught  his  arm,  saying:  "^To,  no,  Joseph;  you  must 
not  go  out  into  this  storm.  Give  me  your  coat;  for  you 
know  that  I  don't  have  the  rheumatism."  Sister  Lucy 
stuffed  one  of  her  old  skirts  and  some  grain-bags  between 
the  logs  to  keep  out  the  snow.  And  the  children  talked  in 
whispers;  for  Sister  Lucy  had  taught  them  from  babies 
that  a  noise  would  make  Joseph's  rheumatism  worse.  Sis- 
ter Lucy  slipped  into  Joe's  coat  and  pinned  the  old  faded 
shawl  over  her  head,  and  bending  to  meet  the  storm,  she 
went  forth  to  feed  the  stock,  fetch  water  from  the  spring, 
and  pitch  the  wood  over  the  fence. 

Now,  the  baby  was  not  a  rag-doll  baby,  but  a  real  lit- 
tle flesh-and-blood  baby,  and  if  Sister  Lucy  must  slosh 
around  in  the  snow  and  get  her  feet  all  soppy  in  the  day, 
the  baby  must  wake  in  the  night  and  cry  and  fret  and  sob, 
with  a  pain  its  little  stomach.  Sister  Lucy  arose,  ami.  with 
baby  under  one  arm,  she  replenished  the  fire,  brewed  a  pot 
of  catnip  tea,  and  induced  baby  in  partake  thereof;  placing 
it  across  her  arms,  she  swayed  forward  and  backward  (for 
Joe  had  not  put  on  the  rockers),  and  baby,  like  a  tiny  boat 
on  a  liny  sea,  in-nth"  rolled  and  slept.  As  Sister  Luc\ 
alone  in  the  flickering  firelight,  the  wind  swirling  down 
the  wide  chimney  and  tin-  sm.w  sizzling  in  the  fire,  in  her 
low.  plaintive  voice  she  scftly  sang: 

"A  charge  to  keep  I  have, 

A  God  to  glorify : 
A  never-dying  soul  in  save. 
And  fit  it  for  the  sky." 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  55 

At  the  end  (»f  eai'h  verse,  in  a  lower  and  softer  tone,  just 
like  she  was  talking"  to  l>u!>v  and  herself  and  someone  else, 
sin-  would  sing  the  refrain: 

"I  'm  glad  salvation 's  free ! 
Salvation's  free  for  yon  and  me; 
Oh,  I  'm  glad  salvation  's  free !" 

As  Sister  Lucy  swayed  and  sang  baby's  little  rigid  form 
Ixvame  limp,  and  Sister  Lucy  cuddled  it  under  her  chin 
and  sang: 

"Oh,  I  'm  glad  salvation 's  free  for  you  and  me !" 

The  next  morning  Sister  Lucy  arose  and  built  the  fire  and 
prepared  breakfast;  the  children  folded  their  hands  while 
Sister  Lucy  bowed  her  head  and  said  grace.  Then,  in  an 
apologetic  way,  she  said:  "Joseph,  I  guess  I'll  have  to 
lie  down  for  a  while;  my  head  feels  queer."  So  she  crept  in 
among  the  covers,  and  Little  Lucy  removed  her  mother's 
shoes  and  took  charge  of  the  baby.  Sister  Lucy  slept,  and 
when  she  awoke  her  head  still  felt  queer,  and  there  was  a 
severe  chill,  followed  by  a  raging  fever.  At  times  Sister 
Lucy  would  talk  with  her  mother,  at  times  repeat  portions 
of  her  school  lessons,  and  at  times  she  would  sing : 

"A  charge  to  keep  I  have, 

A  God  to  glorify. 
Oh,  1 7m  glad  salvation  ?s  free  !" 

In  the  evening  Joe  brewed  a  pot  of  boneset  tea,  and  Sister 
Lucy  drank  the  bitter  stuff.  The  snow  drifted  through 
the  clapboard  roof,  and  Joe  spread  the  faded  showl  over 
the  head  of  the  bed  and  a  chair,  to  keep  it  from,  from  fall- 
ing into  Sister  Lucy's  face.  The  storm  raged  and  shrieked 
around  the  corners  of  the  cabin,  and  howled  in  the  swaying 
tree-tops,  but  Sister  Lucy  knew  it  not;  she  slept  a  busy, 
restless  sleep.  At  times  she  was  in  the  old  home  with  her 
mother.  Then  she  would  repeat : 

"A  home  in  the  wild  wood  with  the  one  that  I  love." 

/ 

And  again,  in  a  sweet  and  almost  childish  voice,  she  would 
sing: 

"A  charge  to  keep  I  have. 
I  'm  glad  salvation  's  free  for  you  and  me! 
Oh,  I  'm  glad  salvation  's  free !" 


56  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

And  Joe,  with  drawn  face  and  dry,  burning  eyes,  watched 
through  the  stormy  night. 

The  night  (as  all  nights  do,  whether  we  are  in  the 
gilded  saloon,  filled  with  music  and  dancing,  or  stand  alone, 
with  bleeding  heart,  by  the  bedside  of  our  dying  loved  ones, 
in  the  lonely  log  cabin),  hour  by  hour,  wore  away,  and  the 
harbingers  of  the  coming  day  cried,  "Behold,  the  morning 
cometh!"  The  storm  had  spent  its  fury,  and  with  sullen 
and  angry  growls  it  rolled  far  out  on  the  snow-drifted 
prairie,  with  the  mercury  registering  twenty-five  degrees 
below  zero.  Joe  ran  over  to  Mr.  Brown's  and  asked,  "Will 
you  go  for  the  doctor?  Sister  Lucy  is  very  sick/'  Mr. 
Brown  saddled  his  horse  quickly  and  rode  away  into  the 
cold  gray  morning,  twelve  miles  through  the  unbroken 
snow-drifts.  The  doctor  was  gone;  but  a  young  student 
came.  The  fever  still  raging;  but  he  made  out  large  doses 
of  quinine,  ordered  a  dose  given  every  two  hours,  and  rode 
away  filled  with  professional  pride.  After  the  first  dose 
was  taken,  Sister  Lucy  never  closed  her  eyes  in  sleep  until 
she  closed  them  in  the  sleep  of  death.  Kind  friends  pre- 
pared her  for  her  burial;  for  all  loved  Sister  Lucy.  The 
Father  said :  "Freck,  mount  your  horse  and  ride  away  and 
tell  the  neighbors  that  Sister  Lucy  will  be  buried  to-mor- 
row." Notwithstanding  the  extreme  cold,  many  came  from 
Miller's  Creek,  Gray's  Creek,  and  Oak  Grove  to  Sister 
Lucy's  funeral. 

Joe,  with  his  brain  dulled  and  dazed  by  the  blow,  re- 
turned to  his  desolate  home — doubly  desolate  to  Joe;  for, 
having  taken  no  active  part  in  the  affairs  of  the  household, 
he  was  as  helpless  as  a  child.  Little  Lucy  took  up  the  bur- 
den where  her  mother  laid  it  down — or  as  much  thereof  as 
a  nine-year-old  child  could  carry.  Little  Lucy  was  Sister 
Lucy  in  a  less  degree;  the  same  big,  dreamy,  bine  eyes,  the 
same  low.  soft  voice,  and  the  same  willingness  to  carry  the 
Ihurdens.  Ten  years  of  coddling  had  unfitted  Joe  for  bat- 
tling with  the  hard  and  perplexing  conditions  of  life. 
(  "Lest  T  forget,"  I  will  say  ri^hi  here  that  Joe  never  scold- 
ed, never  found  fault,  never  nagged.  Iain  persuaded  that 
Joe  never  spoke  a  cross  word  in  his  home 'the  ten  years. 
Now.  doesn't  that  cover  a  multitude  of  sins,  and  make 
you  like  Joe  a  little  bit?)  Little  Lucy  mothered  the  hahies, 
prepared  Hie  meals,  and  washed  and  mended  the  garments. 


EEMINISOENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  57 

Joe  fetched  some  of  the  water  from  the  spring  and  split 
the  kindling,  but  he  did  not  build  the  fire  in  the  morning. 
But  the  baby  and  little  Joe  could  not  rough  it  through  the 
cold,  stormy  winter,  and  a  couple  of  little  mounds  were 
rounded  up  by  the  side  of  Sister  Lucy. 

Sister  Lucy's  dark  and  silent  home  was  under  the  great 
spreading  basswood  tree,  in  the  edge  of  the  grove,  where 
she  loved  to  sit  of  a  Sunday  evening  and  listen  i<>  tin-  bird- 
songs  and  the  humming  of  the  bees,  and  dreamily  watch 
the  sun  sinking  to  rest  far  out  on  the  wide  prairie,  and 
the  stars  as  they  one  by  one  opened  their  eyes  and  looked 
down  upon  the  earth  and  its  toiling,  sorrowing  millions. 
And  Sister  Lucy,  in  a  soft  and  pleading  voice,  would  whis- 
per to  her  heart:  "Yes,  we  have  found  the  romantic,  pict- 
uresque home  in  the  wild  wood."  But  her  heart  would  not 
believe  it,  and  her  spiritualized  soul  would  stretch  out  her 
arms  to  grasp  something,  she  knew  not  what;  but  her  arms 
were  too  short,  and  Sister  Lucy  would  go  away  conscious 
of  an  incomplete  and  crippled  life.  And  only  when  this 
mortal  shall  have  put  on  immortality,  and  she  shall  awake 
in  His  likeness,  shall  Sister  Lucy  be  satisfied.  Two  of 
them  in  the  churchyard  lay,  away  back  in  the  old  eastern 
home,  where  Sister  Lucy  as  a  child  spent  many  hours  stroll- 
ing among  the  thickly  set  tombstones,  reading  the  inscrip- 
tions, many  of  which  were  more  than  a  hundred  years  old. 
And  two  of  them  lay  by  her  side  on  the  western  frontier, 
where  only  bits  of  boards  mark  the  last  resting-place  of  the 
dead.  And  two  of  them,  Little  Lucy  and  Albert,  in  their 
simple  and  innocent  childhood,  were  alternately  crying  and 
laughing,  and  struggling  against  the  hard  conditions  of 
life  in  their  cabin  home  on  the  western  frontier. 

Thus  Joe  and  Little  Lucy  and  Albert,  with  tears  and 
with,  smiles,  in  loneliness  and  struggling,  got  on  for  two 
years.  But  He  who  takes  notice  of  the  falling  sparrow 
only  knew  how  they  °^ot  on.  And  then  Joe  married;  but 
he  didn't  marry  a  Saster  Lucy — he  married  Matilda.  And 
Joe's  "to-morrow"  had  found  the  wav  in.  The  roof  and 
the  walls  were  mended,  and  Joe  split  the  kindling  and  built 
the  fire  in  the  morning,  and  at  Matilda's  mocking  smile 
Joe's  "rheumatiz"  took  to  the  woods.  Some  said :  "Joe 
has  outgrown  his  careless  habits.  Poor  Sister  Lucy!" 
And  others  said :  "Joe  has  been  cured  of  hip  danged  lazi- 
ness. Poor  Sister  Lucv !" 


58  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Month  by  month,  a  day  at  a  time,  the  cold  and  stormy 
Winter  of  1854  passed  over  the  range.  Each  day  in  pass- 
ing handed  out  a  portion  of  pleasure  and  gladness,  hopes 
realized,  and  purpose  attained;  also  a  portion  of  disap- 
pointment, sorrow,  and  heaviness  of  heart.  But,  regard- 
less of  the  conditions  of  the  children  of  men,  the  Spring  of 
1855  blessed  the  earth  with  her  smiles  and  her  tears.  And 
all  nature  joined  in  a  song  of  rejoicing.  The  woods  were 
fairly  bursting  with  the  song  of  the  birds;  the  squirrels, 
with  joyful  tails  curled  over  their  backs,  scampered  along 
the  top  rail  of  the  fence ;  the  cheerful  whistle  and  song  of 
the  plowboy  as  he  drove  his  team  afield  floated  away  on 
the  morning  air;  the  farmer's  wife  and  daughter,  with 
rake  and  hoe,  were  busy  in  the  yard;  and  little  columns  of 
blue  smoke  wriggled  up  into  the  sleepy  air,  marking  the 
location  of  each  cabin  along  the  edge  of  the  zigzagging 
woods.  Water  is  turned  into  the  ash-hopper,  and  the  lye 
is  poured  into  the  big  soap-kettle,  hanging  on  the  same 
old  pole  between  the  same  old  charred  logs,  and  the  same 
child,  with  the  same  old  gourd,  stands  guard  with  cold  lye. 
And  the  bubbling  of  the  soap,  the  songs  of  the  big  girl? 
and  their  mothers,  the  bleating  of  the  sheep,  the  shout  of 
the  happy  children,  the  lowing  of  the  cattle,  and  the  neigh- 
ing of  the  horses  mingled  in  one  mighty  song  of  new  life 
and  gladness  all  along  the  western  frontier. 

The  days  of  our  youth,  could  we  but  keep  them  with 
us  for  ever!  But  they  speed  away  like  a  bird  on  the  wing. 
To-day  we  are  walking  carelessly  and  contentedly  along 
the  path  of  boyhood  and  girlhood,  in  blissful  ignnniiu-e  of 
to-morrow  and  free  from  anxious  care:  and  to-morrow,  for 
the  first  time,  there  is  born  to  us  the  all-pervading  passion, 
the  passion  that  ha?  filled  fho  world  with  happiness,  with 
misery,  and  with  crime.  This  new  knowledge  has  lifted 
our  feet  from  the  old  -path  foiwi-r.  Never  again  ean  we 
go  back  and  walk  therein.  The  new  path  is  carpeted  with 
•mow  and  bordered  with  flowers,  and  our  feet  touch  the 
ground  but  lightly;  and  the  inscription  over  the  gateway- 
is  "Love."  The  aromatic,  sweet  myrrh  of  the  first  bite  hit- 
ten  from  the  apple  of  love,  who  can  forget  it?  We  may 


KEMINISCBNCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  59 

bite  off  other  bites  that  will  prove  more  satisfying,  or  we 
may  sip  the  bitterness  of  nux  vomica;  but  the  aromatic, 
s\virt  myrrh,  have  you  forgotten? 

The  adjoining  farm  was  a  widow's  farm,  and  the 
widow  had  a  daughter,  Edith  (her  name  wasn't  Edith  at 
at  all)  and  one  lovely  spring  morning,  while  the  soap  was 
-a-bubbling  and  the  mighty  song  of  gladness  was  being  sung 
all  along  the  frontier,  Freck  harnessed  his  little  blue  roan 
mare  to  the  buggy,  and  Margaret,  Edith,  and  Freck  drove 
to  Eddyville,  twelve  miles,  and  but  one  house  on  the  way. 
They  crossed  the  Des  Moines  Eiver  on  a  rope  ferry.  There 
they,  for  the  first  time,  had  their  pictures  taken;  they  were 
la  ken  on  glass  plates. 

Returning  home  the  little  roan  was  permitted  to  choose 
her  own  gait;  for  there  seemed  to  be  no  need  to  hurry,  as 
the  world  was  filled  with  pleasant  things,  the  sun  shone 
with  a  softer  light,  the  bird  songs  were  sweeter,  her  eyes 
were  more  lovely,  and  the  blue  sky  was  swung  closer  to  the 


AT  20.  EDITH  AND  MARGARET. 


ground.  The  white  clouds  floated  slowly  along  overhead  and 
whispered,  and  two  of  the  young  hearts  in  the  single  seat 
heard  the  white  clouds  whispering,  and  love  looked  love 


60  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

to  eyes,  and  their  hearts  were  just  plumb-full  of  gladness ;. 
for  this  day,  for  the  first  time,  there  was  born  unto  them 
the  all-pervading  passion.  And  you  can,  for  the  first  time, 
lay  aside  the  perplexing  cares  of  the  present  time  and  go 
back  into  the  long,  long  ago  and  look  into  the  faces  of 
these  children  of  the  frontier. 

Edith  and  Margaret  were  dear  girl  friends ;  the  cabins 
were  real  close,  with  a  nice  path  through  the  grove,  and 
the  riders  were  taken  off  the  panel  where  the  path  crossed 
the  line  fence.  Edith  would  come  over  of  an  evening  to 
tell  Margaret,  and  Margaret  would  go  as  far  as  the  line 
fence,  and  so  would  Freck;  and  Margaret  would  go  over  to 
tell  Edith,  and  so  would  Freck,  and  Edith  would  come  as 
far  as  the  line  fence;  and  when  Edith's  sun-bonnet  would 
slip  back  on  her  shoulders,  Freck  would  replace  it  and  tie 
the  strings  under  her  chin,  and  look  down  into  her  eyes; 
for  Edith  was  little  and  had  lovely  blue  eyes.  She  was  a 
year  younger  than  Freck.  and  could  talk  almost  all  the 
time.  And  these  two  children  of  the  backwoods,  living  their 
clean  and  simple  lives,  were  happy;  but,  in  the  words  of 
the  old  song,  "Their  lips  had  never  met,  never  met." 

Pete,  a  big,  stoop-shouldered,  thirty-five-year-old  Hoo- 
sier  from  off  the  AVabash,  who  spoke  in  a  hollow  voice  and 
never  smiled  nor  said  anything  funny,  with  a  span  of 
horses,  pulled  into  the  settlement..  Pete  rented  the  widow's 
farm,  and  the  widow  housed  Pete  and  fed  Pete,  and  re- 
ceived one-half  the  crop.  The  widow's  cabin  was  filled  to 
the  uttermost,  and  the  poor  woman's  heart  was  full  of 
anxious  thoughts  for  the  morrow:  "How  shall  1  clothe 
them  all.  and  wherewithal  shall  they  be  fed?"  Pete,  in  his 
hollow  voice,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  kept  on  repeat- 
ing: "Little  birds,  as  soon  as  fledged,  should  build  i 
and  relieve  the  mother  bird."  And  the  widow,  in  the  dis- 
couraged voice  of  a  little  faded-out  woman,  who  wa-  fight- 
ing fho  battle  alone  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door,  would 
reply:  "Yes:  if  the  little  bird  loved  the  mother,  she  would 
flv  awnv  and  gather  twigs  and  moss/'  Edith's  heart  was 
filled  with  sorrow  for  the  lone  and  over-burdened  little 
faded-out  mother.  TUit  Edith  didn't  have  so  manv  things 
to  tell  Margaret,  and  the  grass  began  to  grow  in  the  path. 
And  Ereck  wasn't  «»  hapnv  anv  more.  Was  Edith? 

At   the  close  of  the  day.  Ereck  was  drawing  water  for 
his  horses  with   the  windlass  bucket,  and  Margaret,  filled 


EEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  61 

with  some  new  gladness,  came  out,  and  as  Freck  was  lift- 
ing the  bucket  she  put  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  whis- 
pered :  "Freck,  you  can't  guess  where  I  'm  going  to- 
morrow." But  Margaret  couldn't  wait  for  a  guess,  and  she 
oxrlaimed:  "I'm  going  to  a  wedding!" 

"To  a  wedding!"  echoed  Freck.  "Who  is  going  to  be 
married  ?" 

"Oh !  Edith  and  Pete.  Edith  was  over  this  evening 
and  gave  Jim  and  me  an  invite." 

Freck  was  lowering  the  bucket  with  his  hand  on  the 
windlass,  and  his  voice  quavered  as  he  asked :  "Did  Edith 
not  give  me  an  invite  too  ?" 

"No;  just  Jim  and  me."  And,  spinning  'round  on 
her  toes,  Margaret  ran  back  into  the  house. 

And  Freck  cared  for  his  team  as  on  other  evenings; 
for  we  perform  the  tasks  of  life  whether  the  heart  is  bound- 
ing with  gladness  or  crushed  with  sorrow.  But  long  time 
Freck  sat  on  the  barnyard  fence,  with  a  dull,  sluggish  feel- 
ing like  he  had  received  a  lick  with  a  sandbag;  and,  like 
a  wounded  deer,  cared  only  to  keep  out  of  sight  and  die 
alone.  On  the  morrow  the  widow  will  stand  smiling  and 
see  Edith  unequally  yoked  for  life  with  the  big  Hoosier 
Pete;  and  on  the  morrow  Edith  and  Pete  will  turn  their 
faces  toward  the  setting  sun  and  start  off  along  the  journey 
of  life.  As  they  go  on  and  on,  passing  over  the  hills  and 
through  the  bramble  thickets,  the  miry  places,  and  the  rocky 
places,  where  their  feet  will  be  bruised,  Edith  will  be  a 
half-length  ahead,  pulling  and  chafing,  but  never  balky; 
and  Pete  will  shamble  along,  his  singletree  everlastingly 
rubbing  and  rasping  against  the  wheel,  and  will  never  smile 
nor  say  anything  funny.  The  years  will  go  rolling  on,  roll- 
ing on,  and  so  will  the  everlasting  rasping  on  the  wheel; 
and  they  will  draw  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  end  of  the 
trail,  where  they  will  lay  aside  the  yoke,  and  the  everlast- 
ing rasping  will  be  forever  stilled,  and  their  names  will  be 
graven  on  the  doorplate  of  their  abode  in  the  marble  city 
of  the  dead. 

That  night,  for  the  first  time,  Freck's  bed  was  spread 
on  thorns,  and  with  wakeful  tossings  he  longed  for  the 
morning,  and  begged  Death  to  come  and  end  it  all;  but 
Death  stood  off  and  made  faces  at  him.  But  Will,  by  his 
side,  slept  the  sweet  sleep  of  boyhood.  How  Freck  did  long 
to  or0  back  and  walk  in  the  old  path,  and  forever  forget 


62  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

the  new  and  its  mocking  inscription  over  the  gateway  I 
But  there  was  a  deep  chasm  across  the  path,  and  the  foot- 
bridge was  gone,  and  there  was  no  turning  back;  and  in 
black  letters  was  written,  "Ye  shall  be  wise ;  knowing  good 
and  evil."  What  a  harvest  of  heart-anguish  and  de-spa ir 
do  the  young  reap  from  the  field  of  disappointed  love! 
And  on  the  morrow  Freck,  with  the  dull,  sand-bagged  feel- 
ing, drove  his  team  afield.  And  the  noon  hour  was  very 
quiet. 

The  Mother  never  called  the  boy  "Freck."  She  had 
three  names  for  him :  when  she  wished  to  impress  him  with 
her  motherly  authority,  she  would  say,  "Now,  Robert" ;  and 
in  daily  intercourse  she  would  say,  "Now,  Rob" ;  but  when 
the  Mother's  heart  was  tender  and  sympathetic  toward  her 
second-born,  she  would  say,  "Now,  Robbie";  and  this  was 
her  manner  long  after  he  was  bald-headed  and  gray. 

So  when  Freck  pushed  back  from  the  table,  the  Moth- 
er cleared  her  throat  and  said :  "Now,  Robbie,  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  to-day?" 

"Why,  there  is  nothing  the  matter  with  me — not  a 
thing!" 

But  the  Mother  gave  her  head  a  little  shake  and  said: 
"Now,  Robbie,  you  are  not  quite  yourself  to-day.  Hadn't 
you  better  tell  the  Mother  ?" 

This  kindness  was  too  much  for  Freck;  as  usual,  the 
tear-fountain  bubbled  over  at  the  low  places,  and  lie  bit 
off  and  spit  out  the  words:  "I  think  she  might  have  given 
me  an  invite  too." 

"Now,  Robbie,  maybe  she  thought  it  kinder  to  you, 
and  to  herself,  not  to  give  you  an  invitation.  Any  way.  if 
1  were  von,  T  wouldn't  give  a  fig.  Some  day  you  will  have 
n  wedding  of  your  own.  And  you  needn't  send  her  an  in- 
vitation." And  there  was  n  smile  in  the  Mothers  eyes  and 
at  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

Did  the  Mother's  heart  know  what  was  the  matter 
with  the  boy?  and  also  know  that  he  would  get  well,  but 
wished  to  take  away  a  part  of  the  bitter  taste?  and  was  the 
smile  born  of  the  reminiscent  sweet  myrrh?  A  great  writer 
has  written,  "We  never  mnrrv  our  first  love."  And  a  wiser 
writer  has  written,  "'Tis  better  to  have  loved  and  lost  than 
never  to  have  loved  at  all."  . 

All  day  long  Freck  followed  the  plow,  and  a  sub- 
conscious Freck  walked  between  the  plow-bandies  and  kept 


IiKMlNlSCENCliS    OF    PlONEER    LlFE  63 

on  saying:  "Well,  Freck,  it's  all  over  with  you.  Boys 
never  take  it  the  second  time.  You  are  immune."  And 
Freck  would  bitterly  say:  "Had  it  been  any  other  than 
that  dod-damed  big  Hoosier,  who  never  smiles  nor  says 
anything  Funny!  But  if  she  loved  as  I  have  loved,  she 
nrviT  can  forget." 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Hearts  were  full  of  gladness,  and  hearts  were  filled 
with  sadness;  there  were  dark,  angry  frowns,  and  gentle 
eyes  looked  love  to  eyes ;  there  were  kind  and  loving  words, 
and  there  was  bitter  and  cruel  chiding;  eyes  scintillated 
with  happiness,  and  eyes  were  dimmed  from  weeping  scald- 
ing tears;  weary  mothers  at  the  hour  of  midnight,  with 
sick  babies  in  their  arms,  walked  the  floor,  and  the  hus- 
bands slumbered  and  snored;  there  was  singing  and  pray- 
ing, and  there  was  sulks  and  swearing;  there  was  going  to 
meeting  on  the  Sabbath,  and  there  was  going  fishing  on 
the  Sabbath;  there  was  selling  and  buying,  and  there  was 
fair  dealing  and  unfair  dealing;  the  cows  were  milked  in 
the  rain  and  the  boys  galloped  the  plowhorses  to  the  creek 
to  water,  and  oxen  were  beaten  and  the  horses  were  slam- 
med; the  fields  were  plowed,  and  the  fields  were  planted; 
some  husbands  nagged  and  scolded  and  found  fault,  and 
some  wives  took  it  meekly — and  some  didn't;  the  sun  shone 
down,  and  the  rain  poured  down,  011  the  good  and  the  bad 
alike.  And  the  hand  of  Time  kept  right  on  turning  the 
crank,  and  hour  by  hour  the  bright  sunshiny  days  and  the 
dark  rainy  days  of  the  spring  of  1855  were  wound  up  be- 
yond the  reach  of  all  save  memory. 

This  spring  our  Seceder  minister  attended  a  church 
convocation  and  for  two  Sabbaths  we  had  no  meetings.  On 
one  of  these  Sabbath  mornings  Freck  was  strolling  in  the 
grove,  listening  to  the  bird-songs  and  to  the  wind  whis- 
pering to  the  trees.  In  a  bend  of  the  woods  to  the  north 
old  Father  Davis  (he  was  called  "the  Patriarch")  and  his 
sons  and  his  sons-in-law  and  others  of  like  faith  (for  they 
were  all  United  Brethren)  had  settled  and  built  their  cabins 
close  together,  and  we  called  it  "Davistown";  they  held 
their  meetings  in  the  log  school-house.  A/  belt  of  tim- 
ber and  a  branch  divided  Davistown  from  our  settlement, 
and  we  children  called  the  branch'  "Jabbok,"  because  it 


64  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

divided  the  Brethren  from  the  Seceders.  And  without  pur- 
pose Freck  started  along1  the  path  through  the  woods,  and 
crossed  over  Jabbok,  and  went  on  and  on,  listening  to  the 
bird-songs  and  the  voices  of  the  woods,  and  dreaming  a 
sweet  melancholy  day-dream.  The  perfumed  Sabbath  morn- 
ing breeze  kissed  his  cheek  and  softly  whispered  to  his 
heart,  and  the  trees  bowed  their  heads  and  smiled  and  said, 
"Good  morning,  Freck."  The  birds  were  all  singing  their 
Sabbath  morning  hymns,  the  bees  were  droning  away  down 
in  the  buttercups,  and  the  squirrels  were  calling  from  tree 
to  tree,  "Hello !  Here  comes  Freck."  And  Freck  came  out 
of  the  woods,  and  out  of  his  day-dream,  right  at  the  Davis- 
town  school-house. 

He  was  given  a  friendly  greeting,  and  the  oldish  men 
and  women  shook  his  hand  and  said,  "Good  morning, 
Brother  Freck;  I  'm  glad  to  see  you  here";  for  everybody 
knew  Freck,  as  he  had  broken  prairie  and  bought  steers  and 
helped  in  harvest.  Now  this  was  so  different  from  our 
Seceder  meeting  that  it  covered  Freck  with  confusion  and 
embarrassment;  for,  'mind  you,  Freck  had  not  been  to  meet- 
ing (save  Seceder  meeting)  isince  the  night  he  galloped 
away  with  Sam  and  Jim  and  left  Sarah  Jane  Mack  to  walk 
home  alone.  There  was  only  class-meeting  to-day,  but 
Freck  knew  not  what  class-meeting  should  mean.  Someone 
commenced  to  sing  and  all  went  into  the  school-house,  and 
Freck  was  carrried  along  and  sat  down  on  the  back  bench, 
next  the  window-hole.  Mr.  Mack  was  called  "Brother 
Mack,"  and  so  we  will  call  him.  Brother  Mack  was  Father 
Davis'  ("the  Patriarch's")  son-in-law,  and  a  large,  broad- 
shouldered  man,  with  streaks  of  gray  in  his  long  whiskers. 
T  will  tell  you  farther  on  how  Freck  learned  that  he  wa? 
"class  loader."  Brother  Mack  arose  and  said,  "We  will 
liavo  a  season  of  song,"  and  all  rose  to  their  feet,  and  *o 
did  Freck,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do.  And  they  sang: 
"Am  T  a  soldier  of  the  cross, 
A  follower  of  the  Lamb? 
And  shall  I  fear  to  own  His  cause, 
Or  blush  to  speak  Hi?  namo?" 

And  the  rolling  repeat  at  the  end  of  each  verso : 

"Or  blush  to  speak  His  name? 
Or  blush  to  spoak  His  name? 
And  shall  T  fear  to  own  His  cause, 
Or  blush  to  speak  His  name?" 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  65 

They  sang  from  memory;  not  a  hymn-book  in  the  house. 
,And  such  earnestness,  such  abandon !  The  very  clapboards 
seemed  to  rise  and  fall  with  the  song.  And  song  after  song 
\\as  sung.  It  was  all  very  new  and  strange  to  Freck,  and 
his  emotional  nature  was  soon  brought  under  the  influence. 

"Alas!  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed? 

And  did  my  Sovereign  die? 
Would  He  devote  that  sacred  head 
For  such  a  worm  as  I?" 

And  when  they  began  singing, 

"There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood 

Drawn  from  Emmanuel's  veins; 
And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  all   their  guilty  strains." 

Brother  Mack  started  around  shaking  hands  with  everyone, 
big  and  little,  and  singing  the  rolling  repeat: 

"Lose  all  their  guilty  strains, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  strains/' 

And  when  Brother  Mack,  with  the  tears  running  down  his 
cheeks  and  singing, 

"Lose  ail  their  guilty  strains, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  strains," 

reached  Freck,  he  grasped  his  cold,  clammy  hand,  exclaim- 
ing, "God  bless  you,  Brother  Freck!"  and  kept  right  on 
singing : 

"Lose  all  their  guilty  strains, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  strains; 
And  sinners,  plunged  beneath  that  flood, 
Lose  all  their  guilty  strains." 

Freck  was  putting  up  a  desperate  fight  and  watching 
the  low  places,  for  the  fountain  was  filling  up,  and  he 
didn't  dare  to  look  into  the  tear-wet  faces,  lest  his  own  tears 
would  overflow  the  banks  all  along;  but  he  kept  his  gaze 
fixed  on  the  white  clouds  floating  past  the  window-hole, 
and  on  a  bunch  of  hawks  sailing  around  and  around,  away 
up  in  the  glorious  sunshine,  and  wishing  himself  on  the 
other  side  of  Jabbok.  And  when  they  began  to  sing: 


66  BEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

"How  tedious  and  tasteless  the  hours 

When  Jesus  no  longer  I  see! 
Sweet  prospects,  sweet  birds,  and  sweet  flowers 
Have  all  lost  their  sweetness  with  me," 

the  great  red  sun,  the  stumpy  trail,  the  little  cabin,  the 
corn  shocked  around  the  deadened  trees,  and  the  woman 
and  her  song,  all  passed  before  him  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye. 

Then  there  was  a  season  of  talking;  they  railed  it 
"experience-meeting."  Old  Father  Davis  was  a  sturdy  old 
man,  with  a  white  bushy  head,  and  he  had  left  eighty  mile- 
stones behind  his  back;  when  he  arose,  there  was  a  hush. 
"Children,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  'm  glad  to  meet  with  you 
this  morning.  I  'in  drawing  near  the  end  of  the  journey. 
I  started  in  this  Christian  life  before  any  of  you  were 
born,  and  I  'm  glad  the  Lord  called  me  in  my  youth.  Yes- 
terday I  went  to  the  timber  for  at  load  of  rails,  and  I  gave 
the  oxen  their  corn  and  began  to  load  the  rails.  [The  old 
man's  glowing  face  and  the  strangeness  of  his  talk  held 
Freck  in  a  spell.]  And  the  Spirit  came  over  me,  and  I 
knelt  down  right  there;  and,  children,  I  had  a  little  canip- 
meeting  there  by  myself,  me  and  my  Saviour."  There  were 
tears  and  sobbing  all  around,  and  Freck  didn't  watch  the 
low  places  any  more,  but  let  them  flow  over  all  aloiiL;. 

And  this  was  the  class  of  men  and  women,  sun-tanned 
and  weather-beaten  and  clad  in  homespun,  who  built  their 
cabins  along  the  timber  belts,  and  worshiped  God  in  log 
school-houses,  and  laid  the  foundations  for  the  grandest 
Stale,  in  the  Union — Iowa. 

The  Father  was  reading  in  the  shade  of  the  trees,  and 
hearing  the  gate  click,  he  looked  up.  and  pushing  up  his 
glasses,  he  asked,  "Freck,  where  have  you  l>een  all  the  fore- 
noon?" "I  have  been  over  to  Davistown  to  meeting." 

"Over  to  Davisiown  t eeting!"  echoed  the  Father. 

"Freck.  if  you  must  <jo  to  hear  those  people.  o-()  ,,n  ;,  Wn-k 
dav;  don't  bivjik  the  Sahhath  by  ^oin^."  Pear  old  hone-t, 
upright,  God-fearing,  eon-dent  ions  Father!  tnn-  to  his 
early  religions  training  and  his  convictions  of  the  right. 
A  few  years  later,  while  living  on  the  very  ed.n'e  of  the  bor- 
der, he  threw  his  cabin  door  wide  open  to  the  wandering 
preachers,  who  were  following  dose  behind  the  covered 
wagons,  looking  after  and  feeding  the  wandering  sheep, 
and  persuading  many  of  the  goats  to  enter  the  sheepfold. 


liKMINlJSt  '!      I'lONKKU     LlKi:  67 


OHAPTEB  XIV. 

Over  ju-mss  dray's  Creek  was  the  Williams  Settle- 
im'iit.  In  ilu-  early  days  it  was  the  custom  for  relations 
or  people  of  the  same  religious  faith  to  settle  together ; 
and  nld  Father  Williams  rame  from  Kentucky,  retching 
atony  his  sons  and  his  daughters,  their  Kent  m-kv  wives  and 
husbands,  and  their  Kentucky  horses,  cows,  dogs,  and 
habi 

They  did  not  have  a  log  school-house,  nor  go  to  ineri- 
\n£  mi  Sunday  ;  but  in  the  fall,  of  a  Sunday  morning,  a  hal  j- 
dozen  wagons,  drawn  by  a  half-dozen  yoke  of  oxen,  followed 
by  a  dozen  dogs,  and  filled  with  a  jolly  lot  of  Kentucky 
mothers  and  children,  could  be  seen  coming  from  different 
directions  toward  the  old  man's  double  cabin,  with  the 
two  porches,  in  the  grove.  And  there  was  no  corn,  bread 
like  unto  the  corn  bread  prepared  by  these  Kentucky  house- 
wives; nor  ham,  nor  bacon  with  the  same  spicy  flavor. 
And  in  the  fall  each  one  rolled  a  barrel  of  old  Kentucky 
whiskey  into  the  smoke-house,  and  at  meals  the  bottle  and 
the  jigger  (a  little  tin  cup)  stood  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
and  each  helped  himself  to  a  portion — and  the  mother 
would  sweeten  it  for  the  baby;  but  I  never  knew  one  of 
these  people  to  be  under  the  influence  of  whiskey. 

They  all  kept  a  gang  of  dogs;  for  each  child  must 
have  a  dog  he  could  call  his  own.  Lev  was  an  exception; 
Lev  kept  but  two.  One  was  a  little,  slim,  "sassy,"  black 
cur.  Lev  called  him  "Feist,"  and  Feist  took  upon  himself 
all  the  watchful  care  of  the  farm.  The  other  one  was  a 
great,  strong-jawed,  savage  bloodhound,  the  kind  used  for 
hunting  down  runaway  slave?.  Lev  called  him  "Old  Chaw- 
emup."  Old  Chawemup  had  dug  a  hole  under  a  pile  of 
clapboards,  and  would  crawl  in  to  get  away  from  the  gnats; 
but  when  Feist  would  turn  in  the  alarm,  Old  Chawemup 
would  rush  around  to  the  front,  with  his  bristles  raised 
and  his  tail  in  a  threatening  attitude;  and  woe  to  the 
stranger  within  the  gate.  At  times  the  oxen  would  cross 
the  creek,  and  Freck  would  have  to  pass  Lev's  house;  and 
when  he  would  hear  Feist's  sharp  call,  followed  by  Old 
Chawemup's  blood-curdling  bav,  his  heart  would  refuse  to 
go  forward,  but  his  feet  would  go  off  like  a  frightened 
deer.  Freck  often  met  Lev  looking  for  his  oxen,  and  they 


68  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 

became  good  friends,  and  Freck  learned  all  about  the  dogs, 
and  that  Old  Chaweump,  while  quite  a  young  dog,  had 
overtaken  and  "chawed  up"  a  runaway  "nigger,"  and  for 
ever  after  he  was  known  as  "Old  Chawemup/' 

Our  cabin  was  built  in  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and  the 
yard  was  fenced  with  rails;  the  split  picket  gate  was 
hinged  to  the  side  of  a  tree  with  wooden  hinges.  By  the 
side  of  the  log  corn-crib,  under  the  shady  oaks,  Elizabeth 
and  Belle  (the  wee  curly-headed  baby  girl  that  the  Moth- 
er carried  in  her  arms  from  the  deck  of  the  Red  Wing) 
had  built  a  play-house,  and  we  hoys  had  covered  it  with 
clapboards,  fixed  up  shelves,  and  made  little  cradles  for 
their  rag  dolls;  for  a  store  doll  had  never  been  seen  this 
far  west.  At  the  noon  hour  the  boys  would  visit  and  have 
a  real  nice  time ;  for  children  in  those  days  made  their  hap- 
piness as  they  went  along  and  out  of  mighty  simple  things. 

One  morning  a  big  rattlesnake  crawled  out  and  sunk 
its  fangs  into  Belle's  ankle,  and  then  glided  back  under 
the  crib.  All  the  crude  old-time  remedies  were  used,  but 
by  ten  o'clock  the  child  was  nearing  the  entrance  into  the 
dark  valley.  The  Father  said:  "Freck,  mount  a  horse 
and  gallop  to  Lev  Williams'  and  fetch  some  whiskey." 
Freck  turned  into  the  path  and  gave  his  horse  the  rein, 
and  he  rode  down  to  the  ford  and  then  up  to  Lev's  house; 
but  when  he  drew  near,  he  was  filled  with  consternation, 
for  the  door  was  shut,  and  he  knew  that  they  were  away 
from  home.  He  gave  the  gate  a  rattle,  and  listened  for 
Feist's  sharp  bark,  followed  by  Old  Chawemup's  deep  roar; 
but  all  was  still.  Freck  walked  to  the  door,  leaving  the 
gate  ajar,  and  knocked,  still  listening  and  ready  to  flee 
and  close  the  gate;  but  all  was  still.  Then  Freck  turned 
into  the  path  to  the  smoke-house,  still  listening;  but  the 
beating  of  his  heart  was  the  only  sound.  Then  he  opened 
the  door,  and  there  was  a  red-headed  barrel,  and  in  black 
letters  was,  "Old  Kentucky  Whiskey."  And  whiskey,  the 
destroyer,  saved  the  child's  life. 

The  breaking  season  again  rolled  around,  and  Freck 
and  Will  strung  out  the  oxen  to  the  great  plow  and  started 
out  to  pay  for  the  steers  and  cows  bought  during  the  win- 
ter. These  wild  steers  had  been  trained  during  the  winter; 
yoked  and  unyoked  many  times  a  day,  and  worked  in  the 
timber.  Every  Saturday  evening  the  boys  came  home  to 
attend  meeting  on  the  Sabbath,  and  this  often  entailed  a 


KEMINISOENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  69 

loss  of  half  a  day  coining  and  the  same  returning,  and 
twenty  miles'  travel  for  the  oxen;  but  without  this  willing 
sacrifice  to  duty  the  Father  could  not  ask  God's  blessing  on 
the  labor  of  his  hands. 

At  the  time  of  harvest  the  Father  said :  "Boys,  drive 
your  plows  out  of  the  way  and  unyoke  your  oxen;  we  will 
break  no  more  prairie  this  season/'  We  know  not  what  a 
day  may  bring  forth,  and  the  Father  did  not  know  that 
the  next  furrow  of  prairie  sod  he  would  turn  over  would 
be  on  a  homestead  away  out  on  the  bleak  prairie  of  north- 
east Nebraska  Territory,  and  that  twenty  years  would  in- 
tervene; nor  that  a  long  and  bloody  war  would  have  been 
fought,  and  that  Will,  the  true-hearted  son  and  brother, 
would  be  sleeping  in  a  soldier's  grave,  far  from  home  and 
friends,  and  that  Jim  would  have  returned  from  the  war 
a  cripple  for  life;  nor  that  he  and  the  Mother,  in  their 
seventieth  year,  with  undaunted  wills,  would  be  battling 
with  the  storms  and  the  adverse  and  hard  conditions  of  life 
on  a  prairie  homestead  on  the  western  frontier. 

The  Father  and  Big  Jack  bought  a  threshing  ma- 
chine. This  machine  did  not  separate  the  grain  from  the 
straw  and  chaff;  this  was  done  with  a  fanning-mill,  which 
was  turned  by  hand.  There  were  no  separator  machines  in 
those  days.  This  season  the  Father  said:  "Freck,  you 
will  have  to  go  out  with  the  threshing  machine."  And 
Freck  and  Big  Jack  pulled  for  Clark's  Point,  and  began 
threshing  out  of  the  shock,  before  the  grain  was  stacked. 
They  kept  on  to  Pleasant  Divide,  and  Big  A  very  and  Sun- 
rise Prairie,  and  away  down  to  Milledgeville,  in  Appanoose 
County,  and  then  back  home.  After  leaving  straw-ricks 
where  stood  the  grain-stacks,  they  pulled  around  to  Davis- 
town:  and  after  eating  fried  chicken  and  sweet  potatoes 
with  the  Brethren,  they  pulled  across  Gray's  Creek  to- Wil- 
liams' Grove,  and  ate  corn  bread  and  roast  pig  with  the 
Kentuckians ;  here  Big  Jack  sold  to  Jim  Busby,  one  of  the 
Kentuckians,  and  Jim  Busby  and  Freck  pulled  over  onto 
Bluff  Creek;  then  Freck  sold  his  wagon  and  machine,  and 
riding  one  horse  and  leading  the  other,  he  returned  home. 


70  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  human  heart  is  past  finding  out.  Big  Jack  was 
six  feet  one  in  height,  with  coarse  black  hair  and  big  front 
teeth,  and  he  wasn't  very  pretty ;  but  he  was  good-natured, 
and  belonged  to  the  Seceder  Church  (and  all  of  his  folks), 
and  he  was  thirty-five  years  old,  and  was  accounted  an 
exemplary  young  man.  But  when  Big  Jack  and  Freck 
were  away  from  home,  Big  Jack  would  swear  like  anybody; 
and  when  they  were  alone,  he  would  plead:  "Freck,  when 
we  go  home,  don't  breathe  a  word  about  my  swearing;  for 
it  would  break  my  mother's  heart,  and  my  girl  would  sure 
go  back  on  me,  for  she  is  awful  pious."  Big  Jack  was 
pleasant  and  jolly,  and  Freck,  in  his  boyish  way,  liked  Big 
Jack;  so  of  his  lips  he  kept  the  door. 

Big  Jack's  girl,  Mildred  (and  Mildred  wasn't  her 
name  at  all),  and  Jane  (and  Jane  was  her  name)  were 
twin  sisters.  They  were  left  orphans  when  young,  and 
Mildred's  aunt  gave  her  a  home,  and  a  cousin  gave  Jane 
a  home ;  but  when  Mildred  was  sixteen,  her  aunt  found  rest 
in  the  grave,  and  the  cousin  put  her  arms  around  Mildred 
and  took  her  to  her  cabin  home.  And  Mildred's  kinswomen 
met  and  resolved  that:  "Whereas  Cousin  has  given  Jane 
a  home,  for  lo  these  many  years;  and  whereas  Cousin's 
cabin  is  being  crowded  by  the  arrival  at  intervals  of  a  ( to 
Cousin)  sweet  little  new-comer;  therefore  it  is  our  duty 
to  open  our  doors  and  give  Mildred  food  and  shelter."  And 
there  were  other  mothers,  who  were  not  of  Mildred's  line- 
age, but  who  pitied  the  poor  girl,  and  needed  her  work, 
and  they  also  opened  their  doors.  And  as  Mildred  drew 
near  her  sensitive  soul  read  the  inscription  :  "Thou  art 
a  dependent."  And  her  sensitive  soul  crept  a  little  closer 
to  herself.  Three  years  had  passed  behind  the  veil  into 
the  temple  where  time  shall  he  measured  no  more  when 
Mildred  entered  the  Mother's  open  door;  for  the  Mother 
needed  her  work. 

Mildred  was  a  good  and  tender-hearted  girl,  with  a 
sensitive  nature,  scared,  pleading  eyes,  and  willing  hands. 
Mildred  endeavored  to  fill  the  lonely  and  melancholy  void 
in  her  heart  and  life  with  religion,  and  she  wa-  devotedly 
pious.  "Religion  gives  us  peace  with  God,  and  assure-  us 


REMINISCENCES  OF   PIONKI-K  Lin; 


71 


:in  .  ntramv  into  His  kingdom  in  tin-  world  to  come; 
but  religion  ran  n<»l  mine  in  and  fill  ibis  earth-life  to 
completes 


MILDRED. 

Adam  was  sinless,  Adam  walked  in  the  Paradise  of 
God,  Adam  had  daily  communion  with  his  Creator,  but 
Adam"?  life  was  incomplete;  and  Adam  knew  not  what  was 
•missing  from  his  life,  but  God  knew.  And  God'  said:  "It 
is  not  good  for  the  man  to  be  alone.  I  will  make  him  a 
helpmeet."  And  Adam  slept.  And  God  removed  a  rib, 
and  of  the  rib  He  builded  a  woman.  (Builded"  is  the 
Hebrew  rendering.)  And  God  builded  on  till  He  brought 
forth  the  masterpiece  of  His  workmanship,  a  lovely  woman. 
And  Adam  awoke,  and  his  heart  cried :  "Oh !  Here  is  the 
missing  part.  She  is  bone  of  my  bone  and  flesh  of  my 


72  KEMINISCKNCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

flesh."  Therefore  shall  a  man/  leave  his  father  and  his 
mother,  and  cleave  unto  his  wife,  and  they  twain  shall  be 
one;  two  imperfect  lives  blended  into  one  perfect  life. 
This  was  the  purpose  of  God;  this  was  the  end  in  view 
when  God  builded  the  woman.  But  the  Devil,  and  wicked 
men  and  women,  have  thwarted  the  purpose  of  God. 

And  every  good  man — I  am  not  speaking  of  a  bad 
man.  A  bad  man's  heart  is  bad;  his  thoughts  and  his  in- 
flamed passions  are  bad;  and  the  purpose  of  his  heart  is  to 
gratify  his  sensual  and  devilish  lusts,  and  drag  others  down 
to  his  own  level.  But  a  good  man — and  1  care  not  how 
good1  he  may  be;  lie  iriay  be  wholly  sanctified,  he  may  en- 
joy the  fullest  measure  of  religion;  but  his  life  is  incom- 
plete, there  is  a  void  in  his  heart.  And  when  he  meets  the 
right  woman,  his  heart  shouts  the  same  glad  shout  that 
Adam  shouted. 

And  every  good  woman — now,  I  am  not  talking  about 
a  bad  woman.  No,  I  will  say  but  little  about  a  bad  woman. 
A  bad  woman's  heart  is  a  cesspool  of  lewd  and  sensual  de- 
sires and  sinful  intentions;  and  her  trail  can  be  followed 
by  the  slime  left  in  her  footprints,  and  in  her  wake  are 
wrecked  homes,  wailing  children,  and  deserted,  heart- 
broken wives.  A  bad  woman  is  the  crowning  curse  the 
Devil  has  inflicted  on  a  sorrowing  world.  A  bad  woman 
is  a  stench  in  the  nostrils  of  the  Almighty.  But  we  love 
to  speak  of  a  good  woman,  the  crowning  gift  of  God. 
And  every  good  woman  feels  lost  on  the  desert  of  life  until 
she  is  pressed  back  into  the  place  from  whence  she  was  taken 
— close  to  a  good  man's  heart. 

Sam  (and  his  name  wasn't  Sam)  was  a  good  boy,  and 
the  void  in  his  heart  had  never  been  filled.  In  the  evening 
Sam  would  start  in  to  tell  Mildred  the  old,  old  story,  but 
Sam  couldn't  tell  it  very  well,  for  Sam  had  never  been  to 
college;  Sam  had  only  sat  a  few  months  on  the  backless 
benches  in  a  log  school-house.  But,  Mrs.  Eeader,  Mildred 
in  the  log  cabin  knew  what  Sam  wanted  to  say  just  as  well 
as  you  knew  what  Dick  said  in  your  papa's  white  house  on 
the  hill. 

And  Big  Jack  wanted  to  tell  Mildred  the  old,  old 
story;  for  Big  Jack  was  thirty-five,  and  not  very  pretty, 
nnd  still  had  the  void  in  his  heart.  And  Big  Jack  pravc<l 
Mildred  to  leave  the  Mother's  house;  for  Big  Jack  and 
Sam  didn't  like  each  other  verv  well.  But  Mildred  liked 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  73 

to  stay  at  the  Mother's  house;  for  Sam  kept  right  on  try- 
ing to  tell  her  the  old,  old  story.  But  Mildred's  kin  and 
Big  Jack's  kin  belonged  to  the  same  clan,  and  Big  Jack 
solicited  aid,  and  they  sent  and  fetched  Mildred  home. 
Some  coaxed  and  persuaded,  some  domineered  and  hec- 
tored, and  Big  Jack  pleaded;  and  Mildred  married  Big 
Jack.  Sam  packed  his  carpet-sack  with  disappointed  love, 
and  started  off  down  the  trail  alone.  Big  Jack  honestly 
and  ardently  endeavored  to  make  Mildred  cheerful  and 
happy,  and  when  the  fruit  of  his  efforts  was  only  a  soft, 
absent  look,  he  was  heavy  of  heart.  And  all  the  time,  night 
and  day,  Big  Jack  felt  it  in  his  heart,  and  kept  turning 
it  over  and  over  in  his  mind  (but  he  was  too  much  of  a 
man  to  say  it  to  Mildred)  :  "It  is  all  because  of  that  damned 
Sam/''  In  one  short  year  they  carried  Mildred  into  the  lit- 
tle meeting-house,  and  the  minister  spoke  words  of  con- 
solation; the  laid  her  to  rest  in  the  little  graveyard  back 
of  the  meeting-house,  where  she  will  sleep  until  the  morn- 
ing of  the  first  resurrection. 

Sam  kept  on  down  the  trail  alone  for  ten  years,  and 
the  last  three  years  he  wore  the  blue  and  carried  a  musket ; 
sixteen  times  he  stood  on  the  firing-line,  with  his  face  to 
the  foe,  and  then  he  fell  on  the  battle-field.  And  Nathan 
Stone  and  many  others  fell  on  the  battle-field.  Nathan 
and  Sam,  and  many  other  ten  thousands  of  boys,  laid  aside 
the  homespun  garments  and  put  on  the  blue,  and  let  go 
the  plow-handles ;  and  bidding  mother  and  home  good-bye, 
they  marched  away  at  their  country's  call.  Sam  and 
Nathan,  side  by  side,  had  kept  step  on  the  weary  march 
and  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  on  the  firing-line,  and  now 
they  lay  on  the  battle-field  with  arms  touching.  Their  com- 
rades were  driven  back,  and  left  them ;  and  those  wearing 
the  gray  came  pell-mell,  stumbling  and  leaping  over  the 
dead  and  the  wounded;  and  soon  they  returned,  with  the 
Blues  in  hot  pursuit;  and  again  the  Blues  faced  the  other 
way,  with  the  Grays  in  hot  pursuit.  And  they  all  leaped 
and  stumbled  over  the  dead  and  the  wounded.  And  the 
noise  of  the  battle  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  and  died  away 
in  the  dark  woods.  Then  others  wearing  the  gray  came  up, 
in  less  haste,  and  holes  were  digged;  and  Nathan  and  oth- 
ers, wearing  both  the  blue  and  the  gray,  were  buried. 

And  Sam  and  others,  wearing  both  the  blue  and  the 
gray,  were  carried  away  in  wagons.  And  Sam  and  others 


74  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

shared  the  hospitality  and  the  corn  bread  and  the  bean 
broth  of  the  Grays  for  nine  months;  and  not  a  word  came 
to  the  friends  at  home.  Then  as  many  as  were  yet  alive 
were  lined  up  and  marched  before  a  tattered  coat  of  gray, 
and  Captain  Gray  said  unto  them:  "Say,  you  Yanks,  I 
don't  want  you-all  to  think  that  you-all  have  outstayed  yo'r 
welcome;  but  the  fact  is,  corn  bread  an7  bean  broth  is  git- 
tin'  mighty  scarce  in  these  woods,  an'  we  're  gwine  to  turn 
you-all  loose.  But  fust  you-all  what  kin  write  sign  this 
par-ole  paper,  an'  you-all  what  kain't  write  make  yo'r 
mark."  Now,  those  garments  of  blue  were  made  by  con- 
tract, and  from  old  carded-over  saddle-blankets  and  things, 
and  were  in  no  way  related  to  the  Israelitish  garments 
(Deuteronomy  xxix.  5),  and  these  maimed  and  ragged 
"Yanks"  sure  were  a  sorry-looking  lot.  But  each  signed 
his  name ;  some  with  the  flourish  of  a  writing-master.  And 
the  ragged  coat  of  gray  was  astonished;  and  looking  at  the 
ragamuffin  line,  he  inquired:  "Say,  Yanks,  how  you-all 
larn  to  write?"  "Huh  !"  sneered  the  boy  with  the  stub  arm; 
•'boys  up  north  don't  have  to  learn  to  write.  Our  mothers 
are  all  teachers,  and  we  are  born  that  way."  And  the  tat- 
tered coat  of  gray  quietly  replied:  "Wall,  from  the  look 
of  you-all,  I\  guess  you  are  tellin'  the  truth.  An'  now  you 
can  pull  out  for  Noo  Or-lins.  You  sure  will  find  lots  of 
Yanks  at  Noo  Or-lins."  "But,"  inquired  the  boy  with  tin- 
scar  across  his  face,  "how  are  we  to  reach  New  Orleans 
without  a  cent  in  money  ?"  "Oh !  you-all  will  have  to  de- 
pend on  Prov'dence  and  the  niggers."  And  I  had  it 
straight  from  Sam  that  neither  "Prov'dence"  nor  the 
"niggers"  went  back  on  them.  But  day  after  day  they 
tramped  and  hobbled  over  the  clay  hills,  and  at  last,  from 
a  high  hill,  they  saw  a  flag  floating  on  the  breeze ;  and  with 
shaded  eyes  they  gazed,  and  in  one  voice  they  cried,  "It's 
Old  Glory!"  and  the  tattered  caps  flew  into  the  air.  But 
flu-n-  was  a  lump  in  the  throat:  for  it  was,  as  Sam  put  it, 
''like  coming  face  to  face  with  "Mother." 

And  when  the  ten  \cars  were  fulfilled.  Sam  hailed  by 
the  \vsiysidi'.  And  they  thrust  the  si-kle  into  the  standing 
^rain,  and  side  by  side  they  reaped  the  harvest  of  life. 
And  they  gathered  the  wheat  and  they  gathered  the  laiv> 
into  the  storehouse  of  the  heart  for  thirty-five  years:  and 
then,  looking  up  to  Heaven,  she  cried,  "It  is  enough  !" 
and  she  laid  down  her  sickle.  And  her  name  and  her  age 


I\I:.MIM><  I:\CES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  75 

arc  graven  on  the  door  plate  of  her  abode  in  the  city  of 
tin1  dead.  And  Sam  is  still  going  on  down  the  trail,  and 
alone;  and  ere  long  he  will  stumble  over  the  precipice  of 
Time  and  go  down  into  the  dark  abyss,  and  the  waters  of 
forgetfulness  will  close  over  him  and  the  battles  he  has 
I'mi^ht  and  the  fields  that  he  has  reaped. 

You  and  1  are  walking  in  his  footsteps,  and  others 
are  treading  on  our  heels.  See  you  not  the  multitude  com- 
ing over  yonder  hills?  See  them  pouring  out  of  the 
ravines;  some  with  the  firm  step  of  manhood,  some  with  the 
faltering  step  of  age,  and  others  with  the  light  step  of 
youth.  But  all  are  hastening  and  crowding  and  jostling 
clown  into  the  valley  of  the  shadow.  And  like  a  mighty 
river  at  floodtide  they  are  rolling  on  and  pouring  over  into 
the  deep  dark  chasm ;  and  the  chasm  is,  never  filled,  and  the 
flood  is  ever  rolling  on  and  pouring  over,  rolling  on  and 
pouring  over. 

"Life  is  but  a  rolling  river, 

Flowing  on  from  day  to  day; 
Men  are  vessels  launched  upon  it, 
Sometimes  lost  and  cast  away." 

We  are  nearing  the  vortex;  let  us  be  ready  for  the  plunge. 
Let  us  put  on  the  life-preserver  and  lay  hold  of  the  life- 
line ;  for  it  spans  the  dark  river  of  Death  and  reaches  with- 
in the  veil,  and  is  made  fast  to  the  throne  of  God. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

After  returning  from  the  threshing,  Freek  was  called 
upon  many  times  to  trade  a  horse  for  a  yoke  of  oxen,  or 
a  yoke  of  oxen  for  a  horse;  for  the  old  pioneers  loved  to 
dicker.  The  Father  had  given  him  the  full  length  of  the 
rope,  with  this  admonition :  "Freck,  always  keep  the  truth 
on  your  side,  and  pay  hut  little  heed  to  what  the  other  man 
pavp."  Freck's  boyish  heart  began  to  feel  the  twitchings 
of  coming  manhood,  and  he  would  show  off  his  stock  to 
the  best  of  his  ability.  Oh,  those  days  of  our  young  man- 
hood !  How  full  of  simple  pleasure  they  seem  to  have  been ! 
The  humble  log-cabin  home,  the  log  barn,  the  yoking-pen, 
the  shade-trees,  and  the  lowing  of  the  cattle — these  things 


76  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 

are  all  passing  before  me  to-night,  and  I  am  hearing  famil- 
iar voices  and  looking  into  loved  faces;  and  I  see  the  pins 
in  the  wall,  the  ladder  by,  which  we  climbed  to  our  cottage 
bed,  that  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  roof. 


THE  HOME  OF  FRECK'S. YOUNG  MANHOOD 
ON  THE  FRONIIER,  1855. 

And  here  is  a  song  that  Edith  and  Margaret  and 
Freck,  while  sitting  in  the  moonlight,  used  to  sing  in  the 
happy  days  gone  by.  This  song  was  written  by  Coates 
Kinney,  and  it  is  evident  that  Coates  Kinney  had  loved 
and  lost. 

''When  the  humid  shadows  hover  over  all  the  starry  spheres, 
And  the  melancholy  darkness  gently  weeps  in  rainy  tear-. 
What  a  jny  to  press  the  pillow-  ,,)'  a  milage  chamber  bed. 
And  to  listen  to  the  patter  .»f  the  soft  rain  overhead! 

"Kverv  tinkle  on  the  clapboard  has  an  echo  in  the  heart; 
And  a  thousand  dreamv  fancies  into  busy  being  start. 
And  a  thousand  n-eollection-  weave  their  bright  hues  into 

woof, 
As  I  listen  to  the  patter  of  the  rain  upon  the  roof. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  77 

"Now  in  fancy  comes  my  mother  as  she  used  to  years  a  gone, 
To  survey  her  darling  diva  HUTS  ere  she  left  them  till  the 

dawn ; 

Oh!  I  see  her  bending  o'er  me  as  i  list  to  this  refrain 
\Ylm-li  is  played  upon  the  clapboards  by  the  patter  of  the 
rain. 

"Then  my  little  seraph  sister  with  her  wings  and  waving 

hair, 
And   her   bright-eyed   cherub  brother — a   serene,   angelic 

pair — 
Glide  around  my  wakeful  pillow  with  their  praise  or  mild 

reproof, 
As  I  listen  to  the  murmur  of  the  soft  rain  on  the  roof. 

"And  another  comes  to  thrill  me  with  her  eyes'  delicious 

blue ; 

And  forget  I,  gazing  on  her,  that  her  heart  was  all  untrue ; 
I  remember  but  to  love  her  with  a  rapture  kin  to  pain, 
And  my  heart's  quick  pulses  vibrate  to  the  patter  of  the 


And  while  I  am  in  a  poetic,  reminiscent  mood,  I  will 
transcribe,  from  an  old  yellow  sheet  bearing  the  ear-marks 
of  Freck,  a  song  that  never  has  been  sung  nor  ever  will 
be  sung: 

OCTOBER  DAYS. 

Them  smoky,  dreamy  days  air  cum, 

The  sun 's  shimmering  down  through  the  haze ; 
I  'm  dreamin'  of  the  long  ago, 

My  happy  boyhood  days. 

Them  gladsome  soulful  days  I  loved, 

When  the  sky  swung  clost  to  the  ground; 

Great  chunks  of  gladness  a-joltin'  the  breast, 
As  the  heart  flung  'em  off  with  a  bound. 

The  frosty  nights  wnr  clear  and  crisp, 

Red  leaves  wnr  drappin'  off; 
In  early  morn  a  scum  of  ice 

On  the  old  log  water in'-troff. 


78  KEMINISCEJNCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

I  liked  to  git  out  an'  do  the  chores 

Afore  the  break  of  day, 
An"  watch  the  sky  git  red  and  redder, 

As  the  darkness  sneaked  away. 

On  the  old  dead  tree  in  the  edge  of  the  woods, 
His  bare  arms  stretched  to  the  sky, 

To  warm  theirselves  in  the  com  in'  sun. 
The  crows  set  a-cawin  up  high. 

On  fence  an'  trees  the  blackbirds  light, 

A  chatterin',  jolly  old  throng ; 
It  made  my  heart  go  pit-a-pat 

To  hear  their  morning  song. 

Oh,  them  hazy,  solemkolly  days, 

Chuck-full  of  hopeful  cheer ! 
I  loved  to  meander  off  alone, 


In  the  corn-field  as  I  past, 
And  hear  the  lonely  katydid 
Amongst  the  tickle-grass. 

I  loved  to  hear  that  "Bob,  Bob  White !" 

As  I  lounged  anunder  the  trees, 
And  watched  the  babblin'  brook  go  by, 

With  its  fleet  of  autumn  leaves. 

I  loved  to  set  on  the  pastur  fence, 

Dark  shadders  in  nooks  crawlin'  'round, 

An'  listen  to  the  whipperwill 
An'  the  cow-bell's  distant  sound. 

And  in  a  sort  of  wakish  dream, 

Hear  brown-eyed  Tildy  Voss 
A-s\vingin'  on  the  gate  an'  callin', 

"Co  Boss !  Co  Boss !  Co  Boss !" 

I  loved  to  come  a-santerin'  home, 

When  the  sun  to  the  stars  sent  his  greetin'; 
MY  heart  all  meller  an'  solom'  like 

I'd  spent  all  day  in  meetin'. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  79 

I  liked  to  loiter  around  outside, 

While  the  wind  in  the  trees  sobbed  a  sigh ; 

Hear  Mother  in  the  kitchen  a-singin', 
"I  '11  rest  from  my  labor  by  and  by." 

An'  when  the  voices  all  wur  hushed, 

I  'd  climb  to  my  attic  steep, 
An'  close  my  eyes  and  softly  say, 

"Lord,  now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Yes,  I  remember,  I  did  promise  to  tell  you  how  Freck 
learned  that  Brother  Mack  was  ''class  leader."  Freck  met 
Brother  Lott,  as  he  did  Lev  Williams.,  when  seeking  his 
Father's  oxen.  Just  beyond  Jabbok,  a  mile  west  of  Davis- 
town,  with  a  strip  of  woods  between,  lived  Brother  Lott. 
Brother  Lott  was  a  big  six-footer,  and  he  was  the  first  man 
Freck  ever  saw  wearing  a  long,  stiff,  fierce,  aggressive 
moustache  and  the  face  clean  shaven.  Brother  Lott  was 
not  related  to  the  Davisites  by  marriage  or  otherwise,  but 
he  and  Sister  Lott  were  members  of  the  class  and  lived  in 
fellowship — until.  Brother  Lott,  like  most  all  the  settlers, 
managed  to  have  feed  to  carry  his  stock  through  to  grass 
and  no  more,  and  Brother  Lott  was  one  of  the  few  who 
worked  horses  instead  of  oxen.  Brother  Lott  owned  a 
large  roan  four-year-old,  and  the  law  said,  "Koan  shall  not 
be  permitted  to  run  at  large."  But  Brother  Lott  had  no 
feed,  and  his  horses  fed  down  on  the  creek,  and  Roan  was 
turned  on  the  range  with  the  others;  and  one  night  Roan 
sneaked  past  home  and  up  through  the  woods  to  Davistown. 
Now,  I  am  telling  the  story  as  Brother  Lott  told  it  to  me, 
but  in  my  own  way  and  in  my  own  words,  and  the  induc- 
tions are  wholly  my  own ;  nevertheless,  the  inductions,  can- 
not be  gainsaid  nor  set  aside.  When  Roan  came  to  Brother 
Mack's  gate,  he  proceeded  to  make  kindling-wood  of  it,  and 
in  a  general  way  he  raised  the  very  dickens.  Brother  Mack 
left  his  bed  to  investigate,  and  then  he  called  the  boys,  and 
Roan  was  gotten  into  the  barn  and  the  door  was  shut. 
After  morning  prayers,  Brother  Mack  heard  a  voice  say- 
ing. "Brother  Mack,  send  Brother  Lott  word  about  Roan." 
But  the  Devil  spoke  up  real  quick  and  middling  loud : 


80  KEMINISCE.NCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

"Brother  Lott  had  no  right  to  turn  Roan  out.  You  are 
within  the  law."  Brother  Mack  proceeded  to  the  field,  but 
the  voice  kept  right  on  saying:  "Brother  Mack,,  send 
Brother  Lott  word  about  Roan."  Brother  Mack  had  to 
fight  the  Devil  all  day,  but  the  Devil  won  out.  For  every 
evil  thought,  every  sinful  intention  and  desire,  and  every 
impulse  to  do  a  base  or  degrading  act  is  the  voice  of  the 
Devil.  And  every  aspiration  after  a  higher  and  purer  life 
is  the  voice  of  God,  and  every  good  deed  that  anyone  does, 
saint  or  sinner,  is  done  in  obedience  to  the  voice  of  God. 

Early  in  the  morning,  while  the  day  was  breaking, 
Lott  wended  his  way  along  the  path  to  fetch  his  horses; 
and  Roan  was  not.  Lott  hastened  home,  and  waiting  not 
for  Sister  Lott  nor  the  children,  nor  to  say  grace,  he  gulped 
a  bite  of  breakfast,  mounted  a  horse,  and  rode  away  in 
search  of  Roan;  and  in  his  haste  he  did  not  notice  that  the 
Devil  slipped  astride  behind  the  saddle.  After  riding 
through  the  Williams  Settlement  and  the  Bluff  Creek  Set- 
tlement, he  returned  home,  weary,  disappointed,  hungry, 
and  cross;  and,  like  all  men  when  vexed,  he  had  to  be  snap- 
pish with  his  wife,  and,  like  some  men,  he  inwardly  de- 
spised himself  for  it.  But  it  does  seem  that  we  can't  help 
it ;  it  's  man's  nature,  when  vexed  at  anything,  to  be  snap- 
pish with  his  wife;  and,  bless  their  dear  hearts!  some  wives- 
have  caught  the  contagion.  Lott  changed  horses,  and  with- 
out saying,  "Wife.  I'm  vexed  about  Roan;  don't  mind  my 
meanness,"  he  rode  away  toward  Davistown.  And  when 
opposite  Brother  Mack's  barn.  Roan  called  him ;  arid  he 
opened  the  door,  and  there  stood  Roan.  Twelve  hours  bo- 
fore  Lott  would  have  despised  the  strong  man  who  would 
have  allowed  his  angrv  passions  to  gain  the  mastery  over 
his  Christian  manhood;  but  the  Devil  had  an  end  in  view. 
and  had  prepared  the  way  for  the  meeting. 

Brother  Mack  came  slowly  and  timidly  toward  the 
barn ;  for  Brother  Mack  was  carrying  a  load  of  condemna- 
tion, as  he  knew  mighty  well  that  he  should  have  sent 
Brother  Lott  word  in  the  morning  about  Roan,  and  that 
he  had  hearkened  to  the  voice  of  the  Devil. 

"Good  evening.  Brother  Lott."  said  Brother  Mack. 
"'Brother  Lott'  forsooth!"  whispered  the  Devil. 

And   Lott's   aggressive   moustache   curled   up   at   the 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEEH  LIEE  81 

corners  and  displayed  his  big  front  teeth  as  he  replied: 
''Don't  you  'Brother'  me,  you  long-faced  hypocrite.  And 
if  ever  you  again  shut  up  a  horse  of  mine,  1 11  paint  your 
face  so  full  of  red,  black,  and  blue  spots  that  your  own 
wife  won't  know  you." 

"Mack,"  whispered  the  Devil,  ''you  are  as  big  as  he; 
tell  him  that  you  would  like  to  see  a  sample  of  his  paint- 
ing and  the  way  he  does  it." 

But  Brother  Mack  heard  another  voice  saying :  "Learn 
of  Me.  Give  not  railing  for  railing."  And  he  answered: 
"Brother  Lott,  1  'm  sorry  1  didn't  send  you  word  about 
Roan  in  the  morning,  and  1  ask  your  forgiveness." 

But  the  Devil  saw  a  chance  of  entering  into  that  man 
with  seven  others  more  ornery  than  himself,  and  he  whis- 
pered: "Lott,  you  have  him  on  the  run." 

And  Lett's  fierce  moustache  curled  as  he  replied: 
"Forgive  you  ?  ISTo !  I  '11  see  you  where  they  burn  long 
wood  first — and  then  I  won't."  And  Lott  strode  away, 
leading  Roan. 

And  Brother  Mack  turned  and  leaned  his  head  on  the 
top  bar;  and,  like  Peter,  he  wept  bitterly.  But  it  was  too 
late ;  the  work  was  done.  And  the  Devil  was  glad,  and  the 
angels  were  sorry ;  for  if  the  angels  rejoice  over  the  one 
sinner  that  repenteth,  they  surely  are  sorry  over  the  one 
that  returneth  to  the  service  of  the  Devil  and  to  his  wallow- 
ing in  the  mire.  And  Lott  concluded  by  saying:  "He  is 
the  'class  leader/  and  every  Sunday  morning  the  tears  will 
drip  like  the  early  rain."  And  on  Sunday  morning  Brother 
Mack  made  a  public  confession,  and  the  tears  dripped  like 
the  oil  from  Aaron's  beard.  But  what  did  that  avail?  It 
did  not  snatch  Lott  from  the  snare  of  the  Devil,  neither  did 
it  silence  the  voice  which  kept  on  saying,  "Brother  Mack, 
you  should  have  sent  Brother  Lott  word  about  Roan  in  the 
morning." 

Sister  Lott  was  a  pale,  timid  little  woman.  Brother 
Lott  did  not  say,  "You  shan't  go  to  meeting  any  more/' 
but  Sister  Lott  hardly  ever  went,  and  Brother  Lott  never 
any  more.  And  when  their  little  girl  died,  he  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  Davisites;  but  had  Freck  and  Mar- 
garet and  a  girl  friend  to  come  over  and  sit  through  the 
nig^ht.  And  he  buried  her  on  his  own  farm,  in  the  shade 
of  a  big  spreading  black  oak. 


82  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Up  to  this  time  we  had  no  school  in  our  settlement. 
Xo  school-house  had  been  built.  There  were  only  nine 
families,  and  two  of  them  had  no  children.  But  this  fall  we 
all  met  and  repaired  a  little  old  log  cabin.  Puncheons  were 
split  for  benches  and  pins  driven  into  the  wall  for  a  writing- 
desk,  the  old  stick  chimney  was  redaubed  with  mud.  and 
it  was  pronounced  very  good.  And  a  master  (teacher)  was 
hired,  David  Mack.  David  was  a  nephew  of  Brother  Mack, 
the  class  leader;  he  was  a  member  of  the  United  Brethren, 
and  opened  school  by  reading  a  chapter  in  the  Bible. 
David  and  his  father's  household  had  come  from  the  East ; 
he  was  wintering  in  Davistown,  and  wrould  go  farther  west 
in  the  spring.  The  master  sawT  that  Freck  was  timid,  back- 
ward, silly,  and  bashful,  but  was  much  in  earnest  in  his 
studies;  so  he  went  out  of  his  way  to  help  Freck  along, 
and  they  became  mighty  good  friends. 

Becky  and  Freck  were  the  oldest  scholars  and  the 
farthest  advanced.  In  reading  Freck  kept  before  Becky 
because  he  had  been  trained  at  home,  but  in  spelling  Becky 
kept  Freck  away  from  the  head  of  the  class  almost  all  the 
time;  however,  in  "figuring"  they  were  equally  yoked  and 
worked  along  on  the  same  page.  The  master  adopted  a 
rule  of  having  the  scholars  help  each  other  over  the  hard 
places.  When  Freck;  would  come  to  him  for  help,  he  would 
say :  "Bebekah,  will  you  kindly  show  Freck  [but  he  didn't 
say  "Freck"]  how  to  work  this  example?"  And  when 
Becky  w7as  perplexed,  he  wrould  say :  "Freck  [only  he  didn't 
call  him  that],  will  you  please  assist  Rebekah  in  solving 
this  problem  Y'  .Vow.  at  first  this  was  awfully  embarrass- 
ing, for  Becky  was  quite  as  bashful  as  Freck;  but  a  bash- 
ful girl  can't  act  as  silly  as  a  bashful  boy.  They  would  sit 
on  the  backless  bench,  with  a  wide  space  between  them,  and 
cadi  use  their  own  slate:  hut  in  time  they  sat  middling 
close  together  and  used  hut  one  slate,  and  in  their  earnest 
endeavor  to  obtain  the  correct  answer  they  would  bond  over 
the  slate,  and  their  heads  would  touch — just  the  littlest 
mite:  and  when  the  answer  was  aggravatingly  obstinate, 
thev  would  look  away  down  into  each  other'-  eves,  hoping 
to  solve  the  problem  in  that  way.  Frock  felt  the  symptoms 
developing,  and  he  was  sure  he  was  going  to  have  another 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  83 

spell.  Now,  1  don't  think  that  Freck  nor  Becky  purposely 
took  advantage  of  the  master,  but  it  is  possible  that  some 
of  the  examples  could  have  been  worked  out  alone;  and  it 
is  also  possible  that  the  master,  being  young  and  his  own 
wedding-da  v  near  at  hand,  took  note  thereof  and  turned 
his  back  and  smiled. 

Freck  had  not  attended  school  since  the  stormy  winter 
of  1851,  and  although  he  had  not,  even  in  his  haphazard, 
hit-and-miss  way,  attended  school  five  months  in  his  life, 
yet  he  had  a  reputation  among  the  settlers  of  being  quite 
an  advanced  scholar;  for  the  Father  had  given  his  boys 
lessons  along  the  line  of  their  business.  So  the  settlers 
would  bring  their  problems,  and  Freck  would  "figure" 
them  up.  Freck  had  attended  school  a  month,  and  had 
got  the  taste  of  an  education  in  his  mouth  and  was  doing 
his  level  best  to  learn  to  "figure"  in  fractions,  and  was 
building  boyish  castles  in  the  air,  to  be  used  later  on.  But 
one  Friday  morning  the  Father  called :  "Freck,  bring  your 
books  home  to-night.  I  can't  spare  you  any  longer;  those 
steers  must  be  brought  from  Oak  Grove."  And  at  the  noon 
hour  Freck,  in  a  state  of  dejection,  sat  alone  by  the  fire, 
and  the  master  sat  down  by  his  side  and  gave  him  much 
good  advice.  As  Freck  slowly  trod  the  school  path  toward 
his  home  he  resolved :  "When  I  'm  my  own  man,  I  '11  have 
an  education."  And  he  stopped  in  the  path  and  counted 
the  years.  Almost  three  years.  Oh !  how  could  he  wait  so 
long? 

"Days  and  years  revolve  but  slowly; 

Time  is  tedious  to  the  young; 
In  the  hope  of  coming  pleasure, 

Oft  we  wish  our  days  were  gone. 

"Soon  they  fly,  we  know  not  whither; 

Age  comes  on  us  unawares ; 
All  our  hopes  of  coming  pleasure 
Pass  away  with  passing  years." 

"The  best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men 
Gang  aft  a-gley." 

When  Freck,  with  his  books  on  his  arm,  walked  out  of 
the  door  of  that  little  log-cabin  school -house,  he  walked  out 


48  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 

of  the  school-roam  for  the  last  time.  Never  again,  as  a 
pupil,  did  Freck  cross  the  threshold  of  a  school-room. 

In  the  fall  Freck  made  a  journey  on  horseback,  and 
when  seventy-five  miles  out,  he  heard  of  John  and  Susan. 
John  was  Susan's  husband,  and  Susan  was  Uncle  John 
and  Aunt  Martha  Don's  daughter,  and  they  were  good 
friends  of  Freck  and  had  moved  away  out  in  the  West. 
Freck  rode  twenty  miles  out  of  his  way  to  visit  John  and 
Susan,  and  they  constrained  him  to  stay  over  a  day.  On 
the  morrow  they  took  a  horseback-ride,  John  and  Susan 
and  Freck;  and  they  rode  away  down  on  the  river  and  up 
through  the  tall  timber,  where  the  white  man  had  made  no 
trail.  A  bunch  of  deer  jumped  out  of  their  beds  and  loped 
away,  and  a  drove  of  wild  turkeys  rose  up  and  flew  across 
the  river.  They  came  to  a  deserted  Indian  village,  and 
many  of  the  bark  wigwams  were  still  standing ;  dismount- 
ing, they  picked  up  some  flint  arrow-points.  On  the  way 
home  they  came  out  onto  a  narrow  strip  of  prairie,  with  a 
lone  tree  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  and  John  cried :  "I  can 
'beat  the  bunch  to  the  lone  tree."  Away  they  went,  licketty- 
split,  John  and  Susan  and  Freck;  but  John  wasn't  first  by 
a  rod.  And  in  the  morning  John  and  Susan  and  Freck, 
in  a  glad  and  cheerful  way,  said  "Goodjbye,"  and  Freck 
rode  away,  and  they  did  not  realize  that  it  was  for  the  last 
time. 

How  I  would  like,  all  things  unchanged,  to  ride  up  to 
the  gate  of  that  cabin  home  and  hear  Susan  exclaim, 
"Well,  if  here  isn't  Freck!"  and  feel  John's  strong  arms 
dragging  me  from  the  saddle  No  doubt  John  and  Susan 
are  sleeping  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking  until  "the 
trumpet  of  the  Lord  shall  sound,  and  time  shall  be  no  more, 
and  the  morning  breaks,  eternal,  bright,  and  fair."  Dear 
Lord,  will  John  and  Susan  be  there? 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  Father  bought  a  steam  saw-mill  and  set  it  up  at 
the  cross-roads,  a  mile  from  the  farm;  and  this  was  the 
first  steam  saw-mill  west  of  the  Des  Moines  River.  Mar- 
garet and  Mildred  would  fetch  the  dinner  to  the  mill  with 
the  little  blue  roan  and  the  buggy,  and  new-sawn  boards 
made  the  table. 

The  cold,  stormy  Winter  drove  past,  a  day  at  a  time, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  85 

and  as  lie  passed  he  Hung  the  snow  and  the  hail  t'roin  his 
chariot- wheels  into  the  cabins  and  the  barns  and  into  the 
coats  of  the  herds  and  the  flocks,  and  blew  his  icy  breath 
across  the  prairies  and  through  the  woods.  And  all  nature 
was  clothed  in  mourning  garments  of  frozen  snow.  And 
Winter,  at  the  sight  of  the  suffering,  howled  with  delight 
and  shrieked  with  gladness.  But  his  joy  was  not  forever; 
for  the  lovely  young  Spring  of  1856,  with  smiles  and  with 
tears,  drove  up  from  the  South,  threw  the  reins  over 
the  hitching-post,  blew  her  perfumed  breath  across  the 
prairies  and  through  the  woods,  and  went  right  to  work 
putting  down  a  brand-new  carpet  of  green  and  flowers. 
And  the  fathers  and  the  mothers  greeted  her  with  songs, 
and  the  children  shouted  for  joy,  and  the  babies  in  the 
warm  sunshine  kicked  and  cooed,  and  all  nature  and  all 
hearts  were  filled  with  gladness  because  Spring  had  come 
again. 

The  Father  sold  out  on  Half-way  Prairie,  mill  and 
all,  and  again  turned  his  face  toward  the  setting  sun,  and 
again  preparations  were  made  to  follow  up  and  seek  out 
and  build  a  home  on  the  western  frontier. 

Living  an  isolated  home-life,  Margaret  and  Freck 
were  backward  and  timid  and  had  not  the  tongue  of  the 
ready  talker;  but  in  brotherly  and  sisterly  home-life  few 
could  have  given  them  lessons.  I  cannot  recall  a  cross  word 
ever  passing  between  them,  and  at  home  or  driving  over 
the  wide  prairie  they  were  always  companions. 

The  Father  was  waiting  for  the  grass  to  grow  to  move 
his  stock,  and  Freck  saddled  his  iron  gray  pony  and  rode 
around  to  bid  his  young  friends  good-bye.  One  evening  he 
was  loitering  in  the  grove  and  the  sub-conscious  Freck 
said:  "Freck,  you  should  ride  over  and  bid  Edith  good- 
bye before  you  go  away."  So  Freck  saddled  his  pony,  and 
riding  around  to  the  gate,  he  called:  "Margaret,  I  shall 
not  be  at  home  to-night."  In  three  hours  he  had  passed 
over  the  twenty  miles  between,  and  was  eating  supper  with 
Edith  and  Pete. 

The  next  evening,  after  a  delightful  visit  (for  Edith 
could  still  talk  most  all  the  time,  and  Pete  sat  and  never 
smiled  nor  said  anything  funny),  Freck  tied  his  horse  to 
the  rack  and  went  in  to  say  good  bye.  Edith,  with  her 
baby  in  her  arms,  walked  out  with  Freck  to  the  split  picket 
gate,  hinged  with  wooden  hinges  to  the  black  oak  tree; 


8t>  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

and  placing  her  baby  on  Freck's  arms,  and  looking  up  into 
his  eyes  just  like  at  the  crossing  of  the  line  fence,  she  said: 
"Freck,  don't  you  think  he  is  a  nice  baby?  Don't  you 
think  he  is  a  pretty  baby  ?  Freck,  don't  you  think  that  he 
looks  like  Pete?"  Now,  at  this  time,  Freck  Avas  a  mighty 
poor  judge  of  babies;  but  Freck  did  think  that  he  was  the 
image  of  Pete,  and  the  homeliest  little  squab  he  had  ever 
set  his  eyes  on.  But  right  then  and  there  Freok  lied  to 
Edith  about  her  baby,  like  Jacob  did  to  his  old  blind  father 
about  his  hairy  breast;  and  he  answered:  "'Why,  yes,  I 
think  he  is  real  nice  and  awfully  pretty — just  as  pretty  as 
he  can  be,  but  I  don't  think  he  looks  a  mite  like  Pete;  he 
has  such  lovely  eyes — just  like  Edith's." 

As  Freck  stood  by  the  picket  gate,  with  Edith's  baby 
on  his  arms  and  looking  into  the  same  eyes,  the  crossing 
of  the  line  fence,  the  bonnet-strings,  and  the  sweet  myrrh 
were  all  tangled  up.  And  as  Edith,  with  her  arms  under- 
neath her  baby  to  catch  it  should  Freck  lose  his  head  and 
drop  it,  stood  looking  into  Freck's  eyes  for  the  last  time, 
who  will  dare  to  say  that  the  path  through  the  grove,  the 
crossing  of  the  line  fence,  and  the  sweet  myrrh  were  not  in 
her  mind  and  kind-o'-pouty  mouth  ? 

The  grass  was  grown  and  the  stock  was  rounded  up. 
So  Freck  harnessed  a  span  of  large,  half-broken  mares  to 
one  wagon,  and  he  and  Margaret,  sitting  on  a  box,  with 
their  feet  dangling  over  the  dashboard  (for  there  were  no 
spring  seats  in  those  days),  led  the  procession;  and  the 
Father  with  the  long  string  of  oxen,  and  the  Mother  and 
the  two  little  girls  in  a  one-horse  buggy,  and  the  loose 
stock,  driven  by  Will  and  Eck,  following,  they  started  on 
the  one-hundred-and-nfty-milo  journey  to  seek  out  and 
build  a  home  on  the  western  frontier.  Jim  had  gone  out 
from  under  the  boughs  of  the  old  family  tree,  to  fight  alone 
tin-  battles  of  life,  and  to  conquer  and  be  conquered  in  the 
many  and  vexing  conflicts. 

At  the  crossing  of  Big  Cedar  there  came  near  being  a 
tragedy.  The  roads  were  only  dim  trails  and  the  banks 
were  steep,  and  when  Freck  drove  his  half-wild  team  to 
the  brink,  they  reared  and  plunged  down  the  bank:  nnd 
when  the  wagon  pitched  over  the  bank.  Margaret  and 
Freck,  having  no  foot-ltrarr.  were  ihrown  from  the  seat. 
Margaret  instinctively  whirled  around  and  grasped  her 
hands  over  the  edge  of  the  box  and  clung  on  for  dear  life. 


OF  PIONEER  LIFE  87 

dangling  between  the  hordes  and  the  wagon.  The  lines 
jerked  Freck  between  the  horses,  and  Fm-k  instinctively 
grasped  hold  of  the  breeching  and  clung  on  lor  dear  life. 
The  wild  horses  snorted  and  plunged  down  the  steep  hill 
until  they  struck  the  water  breast-deep,  and  then  they 
stopped.  Margaret,  all  of  a  tremble  and  as  pale  as  a  ghost, 
clambered  back  to  her  seat,  and  Freck  disentangled  him- 
self from  the  breeching  and  climbed  back  onto  the  box. 
Margaret  looked  at  Freck,  and  Freck  looked  at  Margaret, 
but  neither  spoke.  Each  laughed  a  little  silly  laugh,  but 
it  availed  nothing;  for  human  nature  sent  the  tears  flowing 
over  at  the  low  places.  Human  nature,  after  a  great 
strain,  will  find  relief  in  tears  or  in  swearing. 

In  the  Big  Cedar  timber  belt  there  was  an  Irish  Col- 
ony, a  lot  of  cabins  built  close  together;  but  from  there  to 
Chariton,  the  county  seat  of  Lucas  County,  there  was  not 
a  house  on  the  way.  We  carried  wood  and  water,  and  went 
into  camp  when  the  sun  shut  the  door.  And  every  night 
the  stove  (for  the  Mother^  for  the  first  time,  had  a  new 
cook  stove)  was  taken  from  the  wagon;  for  you  must  bear 
in  mind  that  there  were  eight  to  be  fed,  besides  old  Shep. 
And  when  a  young  colt  or  calf  came  into  camp,  there  would 
be  a  day  or  two  for  shooting  blue  crane  and  plover.  So 
the  trip  was  a  kind  of  picnic. 

On  the  White  Breast  there  was  a  narrow  belt  of  tim- 
ber and  a  few  settlers,  and  then  from;  White  Breast  to 
Osceola,  the  county  seat  of  Clark  County,  there  was  not  a 
house;  and  from  Osceola  to  Afton,  the  county  seat  of  Union 
County,  there  was  not  a  house  on  the  road.  Afton  con- 
sisted of  three  unfinished  cabins  and  some  covered  wagon- 
boxes. 

To  avoid  crossing  the  streams,  the  trail  followed  the 
divides,  winding  along  on  the  high  prairie  and  adding 
many  miles  to  the  distance  traveled.  To  the  north  and  to 
the  south,  to  the  east  and  to  the  west,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  was  a  boundless  expanse  of  wild  meadow :  the 
grass  waving  in  the  breeze,  and  the  wild  flowers  smiling 
up  at  the  sun,  spending  their  fragrance  on  the  desert  air, 
and  bowing  their  heads  to  the  passer-by.  Far  away  across 
the  prairie  was  seen  little  groves  of  timber;  and  no  doubt 
a  settler  had  sought  out  these  isolated  islands  in  the  prai- 
rie sea,  and  was  building  a  home  on  the  western  frontier. 

As  Margaret  and  Freck  drove  slowly  along,  day  after 


88  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

day,  in  the  midst  of  these  wild  and  romantic  scenes,  they 
indulged  in  day-dreaming,  as  all  young  people  love  to  do 
at  a  certain  age,  when  they  are  having  a  spell ;  and  in  sing- 
ing the  songs  so  common  at  the  time : 

"Roll  on,  silver  moon,  guide  the  traveler  on  his  way, 

Whilst  the  nightingale's  song  is  in  tune; 
For  I  never,  never  more  with  my  true  love  will  stray, 
By  the  soft  silver  light  of  the  moon/' 

"  'Twas  a  calm,  still  night,  and  the  moon's  pale  light 

Shone  soft  o'er  hill  and  vale; 
And  friends  mute  with  grief  stood  around  the  death-bed 

Of  my  long-lost  Lilly  Dale. 
Oh,  Lilly !    Dear  Lilly !    Sweet  Lilly  Dale ! 
Xow  the  wild  rose  blossoms  o'er  her  little  green  grave 
'Neath  the  trees  in  the  flowery  vale." 

"A  home  in  the  wild  wood,  a  cot  in  the  grove, 
A  hut  in  the  valley  with  the  one  that  I  love ; 
I  care  not  how  humble,  how  lowly  it  be, 
If  one  faithful  heart  only  share  it  with  me." 

"To  share  thy  joys,  to  soothe  thy  care; 
With  thee  my  every  thought  to  share; 
With  thee  in  mutual  love  to  live — 
'Tis  all  I  ask  of  Heaven  to  give." 

"The  heart  feels  most  when  the  lips  move  not, 
And  the  eyes  speak  a  gentle  farewell." 

"Her  brow  is  like  the  snow-drift, 

Her  throat  is  like  the  swan ; 
Her  face  it  is  the  fairest 

That  e'er  the  sun  shone  on, 
That  e'er  the  sun  shone  on; 

And  she's  all  the  world  to  me; 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I'd  lay  me  down  and  dee." 

And  many  others,  most  of  which  have  sunken  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  sea  of  forgetfulness ;  but  a  few  broken  frag- 
ments are  still  floating  around,  entangled  in  the  ?eaweed 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  89 

of  memory.  To  these  simple-hearted  children  of  the  log 
cabin  and  the  borderland  these  simple  songs  were  all-suffi- 
cient; the  sentiments  were  in  harmony  with  the  surround- 
ings, and  fitted  into  the  mental  structure  which  their 
youthful  imaginations  were  building. 

When  they  would  pass  a  lone  cabin  in  which  there  was 
a  post-office,  they  would  be  met  at  the  door  by  the  post- 
mistress; and  they  would  hand  her  a  couple  of  letters,  ad- 
dressed "Half-way  Prairie,"  and  they  would  turn  away, 
feeling  sure  that  she  knew  all  about  it;  and  they  would 
tell  each  other :  "Oh,  pshaw !  We  don't  care.  We  will 
never  pass  this  wav  again."  And  they  surely  never  did. 

Margaret  and  Freck  would  sit  in  the  moonlight  and 
in  the  starlight  and  talk  of  the  glad  things  the  coming 
years  held  in  store  for  them,  and  thev  wished  that  the 
tardy  years  would  make  haste.  Dear  patient  and  merciful 
Lord,  the  years  have  come  and  gone;  but  they  did  not  de- 
liver the  goods. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

We  came  to  the  East  Nodaway  River,  and  we  went 
into  camp  over  Sunday.  Here  was  a  belt  of  timber,  and 
also  the  French  Colony,  a  socialistic  community  of  interest, 
a  colony  composed  of  men  only;  they  had  all  things  in 
common,  all  ate  at  the  same  table,  and  all  went  to  work  and 
knocked  off  work  at  the  ringing  of  the  bell.  These  French' 
men,  in  breathing  the  wind  that  swept  over  the  western 
prairies,  breathed  in  the  spirit  of  American  independence 
and  the  spirit  of  individual  ownership,  and  the  beautiful 
and  fragrant  plant  of  socialistic  community  of  interest 
withered  and  died;  and  the  better  colonists  began  to  slip 
away,  to  acquire  individual  ownership  in  horses,  cows,  and 
sheep,  and  a  wife  and  a  home ;  and  the  French  Colony  broke 
up,  just  as  all  such  colonies  will  do  if  composed  of  men 
with  healthy  views  of  life,  ordinary  ambition,  and  a  meas- 
ure of  intelligence. 

On  Monday  morning  we  continued  on  our  way.  Pass- 
ing through  Quincy,  then  county  seat  of  Adams  County, 
a  city  of  two  cabins,  and  coming  to  the  Middle  River,  we 
drove  down  the  valley;  here  we  passed  a  settler  breaking 
prairie,  and  living  by  the  side  of  a  log  and  in  the  covered 
wagon-box;  and  his  wife  and  daughter  planting  sod  corn, 


90  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

beans,  and  other  stuff,  to  live  on  during  the  winter;  and 
the  cabin  would  be  built  later  on.  And  this  is  the  way  the 
old  pioneers  blazed  the  trail  and  encroached  upon  the 
wilderness,  and  built  for  themselves  homes  on  the  western 
frontier. 

How  little  do  the  present  generation  know  of  the  suf- 
ferings,  the  privations,  the  hardships,  and  the  scant  living 
encountered  and  endured  by  the  early  pioneers  all  along 
the  frontier.  Where  are  the  hardy  men  and  women  who 
made  up  the  advance  guard,  the  picket-line  of  civilization, 
who  pushed  back  the  blood-thirsty  savage,  and  went  forth 
with  ox  team,  gun,  and  axe  and  built  their  cabins  where 
stood  the  wigwams.,  and  plowed  up  the  pasture  of  the  buf- 
falo, the  elk,  the  deer,  and  the  antelope?  They  are  fast 
passing  away.  The  great  enemy,  Death,  has  gathered  the 
great  majority  into  his  cold,  cruel  arms;  and  over  many 
graves  of  true,  faithful  wives  and  tender,  loving  mothers 
the  plowshare  is  passing;  and  the  plowman  knows  not  that 
it  is  holy  ground. 

Between  the  Middle  and  the  West  Nodaway  rivers 
there  was  timber  and  three  or  four  cabins ;  the  only  houses, 
except  in  the  towns,  passed  in  more  than  a  hundred  miles. 
What  a  mighty  change  has  taken  place  in  sixty  years !  On 
the  west  bank  of  the  West  Nodaway  there  was  a  cabin, 
and  in  this  cabin  was  a  post-office,  called  Sciola;  and  this 
was  the  only  post-office  in  Montgomery  County.  And  down 
the  valley  was  the  Dunn  Settlement.  We  camped  here  for 
the  night.  The  next  morning  we  drove  to  the  northwest 
to  Bear  Grove ;  here  there  were  two  settlers.  And  here  we 
left  the  trail  and  drove  south  across  the  trackless  prairie 
to  Red  Oak  Grove;  and  there  was  one  settler  here.  Wo 
went  into  camp  on  Eed  Oak  Creek,  in  the  valley  of  the 
East  Nishnabotna  River,  on  the  very  ground  where  now 
-l;inds  the  beautiful  city  of  Red  Oak,  a  city  of  many  thous- 
ands, and  we  remained  in  camp  here  for  two  weeks.  And 
we  rode  and  drove  over  the  country  for  many  miles,  look- 
ing for  a  location,  and  found  it  not;  for  tho  only  timber 
\vns  a  fo\v  willows  nnd  eottomvoods  in  tho  bonds  of  the 
river,  ;in<l  n<>1  a  mile  of  railroad  in  the  State  to  fetch  in 
lumber. 

At  Silkot's  Grove,  three  miles  north,  there  \vore  three 
settlers ;  north  of  Silket's  Grove  there  was  not  a  settler  for 
more  than  a  hundred  miles,  and  south  two  or  three  miles 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  91 

was  Singleton's  Grove  and  three  cabins;  the  next  settle- 
ment to  the  south  was  at  Walden's  Grove,  in  Missouri.  To 
the  west  there  were  no  settlers  until  we  came  to  the  West 
A'i.-hnubotna  River,  in  Mills  County,  and  here  was  a  mill, 
called,  the  White  Cloud  Mill,  and  the  Summers  Settlement. 
And  here,  at  White  Cloud,  a  bridge  spanned  the  West 
Nishnabotna  River;  the  only  bridge  encountered  on  the 
way.  I  have  crossed  the  great  and  grand  State  of  Iowa 
from  the  Mississippi  River,  the  eastern  boundary,  to  the 
West  Xishnabotna  River,  within  twenty-five  miles  of  the 
Missouri  River,  the  western  boundary,  and  never  crossed  a 
bridge;  forded  every  stream  except  the  Skunk  River  and 
the  Des  Moines  River,  and  with  ox  teams.  Every  night  I 
slept  on  the  ground  or  in  the  wagon.  The  Skunk  and  the 
Des  Moines  rivers  were  crossed  on  rope  ferries. 

East  of  Red  Oak  Creek  several  miles,  and  on  a  high 
level  divide,  stood  the  city  of  Frankford,  the  then  county 
seat  of  Montgomery  County;  and  three  unfinished  log  cab- 
ins made  up  the  city  of  Frankford.  Uncle  John  and  Aunt 
Anna  lived  in  one  of  these  unfinished  cabins,  and  Aunt 
Anna  kept  house  by  the  side  of  a  log  in  Red  Oak  Grove 
while  the  cabin  was  being  built.  The  logs  were  taken  off 
of  "Congress  land,"  and  this  was  the  last  house  ever  built 
in  the  city  of  Frankford.  There  was  also  a  log  court-house. 
The  clapboard  roof  was  on,  but  there  were  only  holes  cut 
in  the  walls  for  windows;  the  cracks  between  the  logs  were 
neither  chinked  nor  daubed,  and  the  floor  was  of  loose 
boards  laid  on  the  pole  joists.  Old  Doctor  Bond  lived  in 
one  of  the  cabins,  and  sat  on  a  bench  in  the  court-house 
alone.  The  mail  was  delivered  once  a  week,  at  Sciola  post- 
office,  ten  miles  away;  and  Freck  and  Margaret  had  to  go 
to  Sciola  post-office,  fifteen  miles  from  camp,  to  receive  the 
answers  to  their  letters  addressed  "Half-wav  Prairie." 

Down  the  Ea«t  Nishnabotna  valley,  in  Fremont  Coun- 
ty, was  the  little  Mormon  settlement,  or  "stake  of  Zion," 
Manti.  When  the  Prophet  Joseph,  by  the  Gentiles  callorl 
"Joe  Smith."  was  murdered,  and  the  Saints  driven  from 
Nanvoo,  thev  turned  their  faces  toward  the  setting  sun, 
to  seek  a  refuge  from  the  Gentiles  and  a  resting-place  for 
the  Tabernacle  of  the  Lord.  They  crossed  the  Mississippi 
River  on  the  ice,  and  camped  in  the  snow  and  the  rain  and 
the  winter  storms.  And  when  they  got  bevond  the  Gentile 
•settlements,  and  came  to  timber,  they  would  drop  off  a  few 


02  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

Saints  to  provide  a  way-station  on  the  way  to  Zion.    And 
this  was  called  "driving  a  stake  of  Zion." 

By  special  "revelation,,"  the  Prophet  Joseph  was  di- 
rected to  go  into  the  land  of  Shinehah,  and  there,  on  the 
borders  of  the  Lamanites,  locate  the  ATew  Jerusalem,,  the 
city  of  Zion.  And  the  gates  should  be  open  to  the  lost 
tribe  of  the  house  of  Israel.  In  obedience  to  the  divine 
"revelation,"  the  Prophet  Joseph  journeyed  to  the  border 
of  the  Lamanites  and  the  land  of  Shinehah,  and  located 
the  New  Jerusalem,  the  city  of  Zion,  at  Independence, 
Jackson  County,  Missouri.  But  the  wicked  Gentile  Mis- 
sourians  contended  with  the  Saints,  that  they  had  not 
crossed  the  Jordan,  and  were  not  in  the  land  of  Shinehah, 
nor  on  the  border  of  the  Lamanites.  And  the  Gentile  Mis- 
sourians  said,  "Move  on  across  the  Jordan."  And  they 
brought  many  arguments  to  bear  to  persuade  the  Saints, 
in  the  shape  of  rifles,  shot-guns,  and  horse-pistols.  And 
the  Saints  moved  on  across  the  Missouri  River,  and  the 
Gentile  Missourians  profited  thereby;  for  they  bought  the 
land  of  the  Saints  at  hold-up  prices.  And  the  Saints  drove 
another  "stake  of  Zion"  in  Clay  County.  And  again  the 
Gentile  Missourians  said,  "Move  on."  And  the  Saints 
moved  on.  And  they  drove  another  "stake  of  Zion"  in  the 
wilderness  of  Ray  County.  And  the  Saints  thought  surely 
they  had  reached  the  land  of  Shinehah  and  the  borders 
of  the  Lamanites  this  time;  and  they  drove  another  "stake 
of  Zion." 

And  it  was  "revealed"  to  Joseph  the  Prophet,  and  he 
pent  forth  a  proclamation  to  the  Saints  scattered  abroad : 
"Thus  said  the  Lord:  Sell  your  possessions,  and  rnllv 
around ;  and  make  strong  Zion's  sfake  in  the  wilderness." 
And  with  this  end  in  view  a  military  organization,  called 
"Zion's  Camp,"  was  armed,  "to  redeem  the  Xew  Jerusalem" 
and  to  hold  the  stakes  in  the  wilderness.  The  Prophet  was 
the  general,  and  Brie-ham,  one  of  the  twelve  Apostles  nno* 
the  one  that  Joseph  loved,  was  a  captain.  And  then  fol- 
lowed the  battles  of  Crooked  River  and  Haun's  Mill.  But 
Achan  had  hid  a  goodly  garment  or  a  wedge  of  gold  among 
his  stuff  (Joshua  vii.  21),  and  the  Saints  were  defeated, 
and  Joseph  the  Prophet  was  taken  prisoner.  And  again 
the  Saints  signed  deeds,  in  the  presence  of  the  Gentiles  with 
guns  in  their  hands.  And  one  of  the  twelve  Apostles  was 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  93 

killed  in  the  battle  of  Crooked  River,  and  one  forsook  the 
Saints  and  fled  and  joined  hands  with  the  Gentiles. 

And  Brigham  became  the  head  -corner-stone  of  the 
Quorum  of  the  Twelve.  And  Brigham  proceeded  to  organ- 
ize the  broken  and  peeled  hosts  of  Zion  into  companies,  to 
again  take  up  the  weary  march  in  search  of  the  land  of 
Shinehah  and  the  borders  of  the  Lamanites;  for  the  Gen- 
tile Missourians,  with  guns  in  their  hands,  said,  "Move  on 
and  cross  the  border."  And  Joseph  the  Prophet  had  been 
cast  into  prison.  And  Brigham  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
Quorum  of  the  Twelve.  But  the  Gentiles  pressed  hard 
after  Brigham ;  and  Brigham  fled,  and  left  the  hosts  of  the 
Latter-Day  Saints  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Gentile 
Missourians,  with  guns  in  their  hands.  Ragged,  destitute, 
hungry,  and  footsore,  the  Saints,  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, trailed  on  toward  the  land  of  Shinehah  and  the  bor- 
ders of  the  Lamanites.  And  they  knew  not  where  they  were 
going;  but  they  could  not  do  otherwise  than  to  go  forward, 
for  the  Gentile  Missourians  were  in  the  rear,  with  guns  in 
their  hands  to  see  that  they  crossed  the  border.  Their 
flight  was  in  the  winter;  but  in  time,  through  snow,  sleet, 
rain-storms,  and  Missouri  mud,  the  long,  straggling  line 
o£  mothers,  carrying  babies  to  lighten  the  load,  and  ^ad  in 
tattered  garments,  and  the  poverty-stricken  oxen,  horces, 
cows,  and  sheep,  reached  the  border  and  crossed  the  Mis- 
sissippi River  on  the  ice  into  Illinois.  And  they  had  mark- 
ed the  line  of  the  Old  Mormon  Trail  with  the  wreckage 
of  wagons,  with  the  bones  of  animals,  and  with  new-made 
graves.  And  the  Gentile  Missourians  returned  to  their 
warm  and  cheery  firesides,  to  tell  how  they  had  braved  the 
snow,  the  hail,  the  rain,  and  the  Missouri  mud,  and  had 
driven  the  Mormon  women  and  children,  and  also  the  men, 
from  the  sacred  soil  of  grand  old  Missouri. 

And  the  Saints  made  sure  that  this  time  they  had 
reached  the  land  of  Shinehah  and  the  borders  of  the 
Lamanites.  And  they  drove  another  "stake  of  Zion"  on 
the  eastern  bank  of  the  Mississippi  River,  at  a  place  called 
"Commerce";  but  when  the  Prophet  Joseph  was  set  at 
liberty  and  joined  the  congregation  of  the  Lord,  he  named 
it  "the  stake  of  Zion,  Nauvoo."  But  the  spiritual,  mystic 
meaning  of  the  name  "Nauvoo"  was  holden  from  the  peo- 
ple; only  to  a  few  choice  souls  did  the  Prophet  divulge 
the  mystic  meaning  of  "Nauvoo."  And  the  Saints  built 


94  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 

cabins  and  booths,,  and  plowed,  planted,  reaped,  and  gath- 
ered into  granaries ;  for  the  Saints  were  an  industrious  and 
frugal  people.  And  they  began  building  the  great  Nauvoo 
Temple,  around  which  the  Latter-Day  Saints  were  to  rally,, 
and  go  forth  to  conquer  the  world.  And  they  hewed  out 
the  twelve  great  stone  oxen,  very  lifelike,  on  whose  backs 
rested  the  great  stone  lavatory.  And  one  day  in  ten,  and. 
one  bushel  of  grain  in  ten,  and  one  calf,  .one  lamb,  and  one 
chicken  in  ten  belonged  to  the  Lord.  And  the  Prophet 
was  the  Lord's  agent. 

Between  Xauvoo  and  the  river  there  was  a  swampy 
strip  of  land,  and  when  the  tall  grass  and  reeds  were  bitten 
by  the  frost,  and  the  water  was,  drying  up,  and  the  hot  sun 
shining,  this  place  became  an  ideal  incubator  for  fever  and 
ague.  And  the  hosts  of  Zion  were  prostrated;  even  the 
Prophet  and  his  family  did  not  escape.  But  the  power  of 
the  Lord  rested  on  Joseph,  and  he  arose  from  his  bed ;  and 
first  he  commanded  his  own  household  to  arise  and  be  made 
whole.  And  they  were  made  whole  in  that  same  hour. 
And  the  Prophet  went  from  cabin  to  cabin,  and  from  tent 
to  tent,  calling,  "In  the  name  of  Israel's  God,  I  command 
you  to  be  made  whole."  And  they  arose  and  followed  him. 
And  coming  to  the  house  of  the  head  of  the  Quorum  of  the- 
Twelve,  where  he  lay  tossing  in  a  raging  fever,  he  cried, 
"Brother  Brigham,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  I  command 
you  to  arise."  And  Brother  Brigham  sprang  from  hi?  lied 
and  joined  the  procession.  And  they  came  to  the  cabin  of 
Elijah  Fordham.  Now,  Brother  Elijah  was  in  the  ;u-t  of 
riving;  but  Joseph  cried,  "Brother  Elijah,  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  T  command  you  to  arise."  And  Brother  Elijah 
Ira  pod  from  the  bed  and  called  for  his  garments.  And  in 
all  the  camp  of  Zion  there  was  not  one  who  said.  "T  am 
?i  ok."  Now,  T  had  Hi  is  from  the  lips  of  Latter-Day  Saints 
whose  word  would  be  taken  in  a  court  of  justice,  hut  T 
can't  believe  it. 

And  tho  Prophet  Joseph  sent  a  proclamation  from 
stake  to  stake:  "Sell  your  possessions  and  rally  around  the 
pinko  of  Zion.  Nanvoo."  And  they  on  mo  with  wive-  nnrT 
children,  and  flock-  and  honK  and  spread  out  over  tho 
land.  And  they  gathered  unto  themselves  much  substance, 
and  grow  in  nunihor:  hut  they  did  not  grow  in  favor  with 
the  people  of  the  land. 

And  tho  Lord  called  unto  Joseph  saying:     "Joseplu 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  95 

my  servant."  And  Joseph  the  Prophet  answered:  "Here 
am  I.  Speak,  Lord.''  And  the  Lord  said:  "Send  mis- 
sionaries across  the  big  waters."  And  Joseph  sent  Brig- 
ham  and  others  to  England.  And  soon  a  shipload  of 
Saints  arrived  to  make  strong  the  stake  of  Zion,  Nauvoo. 
And  others  followed  in  quick  succession.  And  when  their 
numbers  were  increased,  the  Gentiles  living  in  the  land 
were  induced  to  join  the  Saints  or  cross  the  border.  ' 

How  do  I  know  this  ?    I  will  tell  you. 

James  C ,  a  sturdy  old  Scotch  Seceder,  and  others 

of  like  faith,  were  dwellers  in  the  land  (but  they  did  not 
know  that  it  was  the  land  ofl  Shinehah)  before  the  coming 
of  the  Saints;  and  after  their  coming  the  Saints  compassed 
land  and  sea  to :  make  proselytes,  and  they  did  make  pros- 
elytes. And  you  can  learn  the  result  by  reading  the  fif- 
teenth verse  of  the  twenty-third  chapter  of  Matthew.  And 
James  C-  — ,  the  sturdy  old  Scotch  Seceder,  and  the  others, 
who  could  not  be  proselyted,  soon  felt  the  iron  hand ;  their 
cows,  horses,  and  sheep  strayed  away  and  could  not  be 
found.  And  they  sold  their  possessions  at  hold-up  prices. 

How  do  I  know  all  this  ?    Well,  I  can  tell  you. 

James  C—  — ,  the  Scotch  Seceder  and  sturdy  old  sol- 
dier, who  fought  under  General  Harrison  in  the  War  of 
1812,  and  who  received  a  land  warrant  and  carried  it  for 
forty  years  between  the  leaves  of  the  old  family  Bible,  had 
an  only  daughter,  Mary,  who  remembered  the  Temple  and 
the  great  stone  oxen  with  their  eves  of  life.  And  Mary 
became  the  wife  of  the  writer,  and  from  her  lips  and  the 
lips  of  her  mother  he  learned  much  of  which  he  cares  not 
to  write  at  this  late  date. 

The  Father's  brother  Will,  a  stripling  of  eighteen  years, 
was  a  soldier  in  the  War  of  1812,  and  helped  Perry  win  the 
memorable  battle  of  Lake  Erie.  And  the  Father,  a  lad  of 
twelve  years,  and  his  widowed  mother  stood  bv  the  door 
of  their  cabin  home  and  listened  to  the  booming  of  the 
cannon  on  Lake. Erie's  hlood-ptained  wave. 

It  was  "revealed"  to  Joseph  that  the  Saints  would 
rule  the  world.  And  the  Saints  nominated  Joe  Smith  for 
President  of  the  Tnited  States  of  America,  and  organized 
the  Xauvoo  Legion;  and  with  banners  and  guns  they 
marched  through  the  streets  of  Zion  and  jostled  the  Gen* 
tiles.  And  the  Prophet  Joseph  was  the  general.  And  an 
anti-Josephite  paper  was  published  in  Zion;  for  Zion  was 


"96  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

full  of  schism  and  schemers  and  ambitious  Saints.  And 
the  Prophet  said:  "Pull  down  and  destroy  the  enemy  of 
the  Lord  and  His  Zion."  And  it  was  done.  And  a  war- 
rant was  sworn  out  for  the  arrest  of  the  Prophet  and  oth- 
ers ;  but  the  arrest  could  not  be  made,  for  the  Legion  had 
orders  to  permit  no  Gentile  foot  to  walk  the  streets  of  the 
holy  city.  And  the  Governor  ordered  out  the  State  Militia. 
The  Prophet  Joseph  and  other  leaders  slipped  across  the 
Mississippi  River  and  were  hastening  toward  the  place  where 
the  sun  goes  down,  but  they  were  intercepted  and  brought 
back  and  lodged  in  the  Carthage  jail.  The  jail  was  broken 
into  by  a  mob,  and  the  Prophet  Jocer>h  and  his  brother 
Hiram  were  murdered.  The  perpetrators  were  brought  to 
trial,  but  were  honorably  acquitted. 

The  Saints  were  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd,  and 
there  was  great  apprehension;  and  there  was  also  much 
scheming  among  the  leaders,  for  many  were  willing  to 
wear  Joseph's  mantle.  And  the  head  of  the  Quorum  of 
the  Twelve  was  away  on  a  mission  in  the  East.  But,  al- 
ways having  the  interest  of  Zion  (closely  connected  with 
Brigham's  interest)  at  heart,  he  made  haste  to  get  within 
the  gates  of  Zion.  And  Brigham  in  his  masterful  manner 
grasped  the  reins,  and  ordered  the  whole  congregation  of 
the  Saints  to  assemble  in  holy  convocation  on  the  morrow. 
On  the  morrow  the  multitudes  were  gathered  together,  and 
the  head  of  the  Quorum  of  the  Twelve  arose  and  cried: 
"0  ye  saints  of  the  Most  High !  0  ye  congregation  of 
the  Lord!  Do  I  find  you  mourning  for  your  prophet  as 
the  Israelites  mourned  for  Moses?  No;  I  find  von  schem- 
ing and  pulling  to  get  into  Joseph's  shoes.  Now,  T  say, 
let  every  man  stand  up  before  the  congregation  of  the  Lord 
and  state  his  claims  to  the  succession."  Whereupon  Broth- 
er Sidney  Rigdon  arose  and  for  an  hour  and  a  half  he  made 
clear  his  claim  to  the  succession;  and  higher  and  higher  he 
climbed  the  ladder,  until  he  stood  on  the  topmost  round  and 
was  putting  forth  his  hand  to  grasp  the  mantle,  when 
Brigham  arose  and  gave  the  ladder  a  kick,  and  Brother 
Sidney  fell.  And  Brigham  boldly  declared  that  the 
Prophet  Joseph,  a  long  time  ago,  had  bestowed  on  him 
the  Prophet's  endowments;  and  no  man  could  come  be- 
tween him  and  the  Prophet.  And  he,  as  the  head  of  the 
Quorum  of  the  Twelve,  held  the  keys  to  the  kingdom. 
And  Brigham  succeeded  to  the  succession. 

Meantime  the  Gentiles  stood  afar  off,  awaiting  the  re- 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  97 

suit,  and  keeping  their  powder  dry.  And  they  cried :  "Cross- 
the  border,  or  suffer  the  consequences."  And  the  Saints 
crossed  the  border,  the  Mississippi  Uiver,  and  also  suffered 
the  consequences.  The  first  section,  led  by  Charles  Shuin- 
way,  to  the  number  of  four  hundred  wagons,  left  their 
cozy  cabin  homes  and  again  started  out  in  search  of  the 
land  of  Shinehah  and  the  borders  of  the  Lamanites.  They 
camped  the*  first  night  on  Sugar  Creek,  nine  miles  out,  on 
February  4th.  The  winter  weather  was  bitterly  cold,  and 
the  Saints  scraped  away  the  snow  and  made  their  beds  on 
the  frozen  ground  or  in  the  wagons.  And  the  first  night, 
in  covered  wagons,  the  winter  wind  flapping  the  covers 
and  making  merry  swirling  the  snow  into  their  tender  lit- 
tle faces,  nine  babies  were  born.  I  wonder,  can  those  babies 
point  with  pride  to  the  time  and  the  circumstances  of  their 
birth? 

Day  after  day  they  toiled  on  through  snow-storms  and 
rain  across  the  trackless  prairie.  The  oxen  could  be  fed 
but  a  light  ration,  and  they  became  weak  and  jaded,  and 
many  died.  And  when  a  wagon  got  "stuck  in  the  mud," 
often  ten  yoke  of  oxen  were  required  to  move  the  load. 
On  coming  to  timber,  they  would  drive  a  "stake  of  Zion." 
And  still  they  toiled  on  toward  the  land  of  Shinehah,  mark- 
ing the  Old  Mormon  Trail  with  the  wreckage  of  wagons, 
with  the  bones  of  animals,  and  with  new-made  graves;  the 
graves  of  tiny  babies,  the  young  wife,  the  old  grandmother, 
and  the  coarse  and  profane  man.  Some  of  the  graves  were 
marked  by  a  bit  of  slab  split  from  a  log,  but  without  name 
or  date;  but  the  greater  number  were  marked  only  by  a 
slit  in  the  prairie  sod.  And  from  these  sunken  graves  the 
tall  prairie  flowers  grew  and  nodded  their  heads  to  the 
passing  breeze  and  turned  their  smiling  faces  up  to  heaven; 
but  they  could  not  tell  the  passer-by  whether  it  was  a  ten- 
der-hearted wife  and  mother  or  a  coarse  and  vulgar  man 
that  slept  at  their  feet. 

Many  hundreds  of  miles  have  I  traveled  along  the  Old 
Mormon  Trail,  but  only  one  grave  was  marked  by  a  stone. 
Rudely  thereon  was  chiseled: 

"J.  EASTMAN. 

1846." 

And  as  I  stood  by  the  lone  grave,  as  in  a  dream,  I  again 
saw  the  long  train  of  covered  wagons,  drawn  by  the  long 
string  of  jaded  oxen,  passing  along  the  trail;  and  again 


98  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

I  heard  the  shout  of  the  drivers  and  the  crack  of  the  long 
whip;  and  again  I  saw  in  the  rear  the  long  "push-cart 
train/'  hand-carts  filled  with  bundles  and  babies,  and  by 
weary  mothers,  with  tattered  garments  and  shoes  lashed  on 
with  thongs,  pushed  before  them,  because  there  was  no 
room  in  the  wagons ;  and  in  the  rear  of  the  push-carts  oth- 
er mothers,  carrying  babies  in  their  arms  and  leading  one 
by  the  hand,  and  often]  a  third  clinging  to  their  skirts,  be- 
cause the  hand-carts  were  too  few.  And  step  by  step  they 
were  dragging  themselves  toward  the  city  of  Zion,  firm  in 
the  belief  that  in  Zion  they  would  find  tranquil  rest  for 
evermore;  for  the  Mormon  women  were  kept  in  a  state  of 
religious  hysteria,  and  they  thought  of  Zion  as  others  think 
of  Heaven. 

To  show  the  religious  frenzy  to  which  the  women  were 
carried,  I  will  only  relate  one  incident.  I  could  give 
many.  A  passing  train  stopped  at  the  spring  to  fill  the 
water-jugs,  and  Uncle  Eeub,  who  had  one  short  leg  and  a 
red  head  and  was  of  an  inquisitive  turn  of  mind,  hobbled 
up  to  one  of  the  wagons,  which  was  filled  with  girls  and 
young  women,  and  inquired :  "Where  are  you  girls  going, 
and  what  are  you  going  for?"  And  one  of  the  girls 
clasped  her  hands  over  her  head,  and  looking  up  to  Heaven, 
she  almost  shrieked:  "We  are  going  to  the  city  of  Ziou, 
to  see  Jesus !"  Poor  deluded  children !  They  left  their 
homes  assured  that  this  mental  dream  would  be  realized. 
They*  would  not  find  the  Master  in  Zion;  but  they  would 
find  many  possessed  with  the  same  spirit  that  ran  down 
the  mountain-side  and  scared  the  swine  into  the  sea.  And 
they  would  be  lined  up,  and  those  in  authority  would  take 
first  choice;  and  they  would  become  "Five,"  "Seven,"  or 
"Come,  Eleven."  And  they  would  be  allotted  a  plot  of 
ground  and  a  cabin,  and  they  would  be  required  to  cultivate 
the  ground,  and  to  bear  children  and  bring  them  up  for 
soldiers  to  fight  the  Gentiles  and  conquer  the  world;  for 
this  purpose  they  were  fetched  out  to  Zion. 

There  was  a  purpose  in  the  absence  of  markers  at  the 
graves:  the  leaders  did  not  design  to  mark  the  highway  to 
/ion  will)  gravestones.  The  pilgrims  should  not  come  up 
to  the  New  Jerusalem  pinging,  "Hark,  from  the  tombs  a 
doleful  sound."  but  rather  with  music  and  dancing.  And 
\\i-  find  that  the  very  first  night  out.  while  some  were  in 
pain,  travailing  to  be  delivered,  the  >n«>\v  was  scraped  away 


X 

REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  Lin;  99 

and  others  were  "tripping  the  light  fantastic  toe"  to  the 
strains    of    "The    Arkansaw    Traveler"    or    "The    DeviPs 

Dream." 

(  1 1APTER  XXI. 

ihere  were  many  "slakes  of  Zion/'  fifty  years  ago, 
along  the  Old  Mormon  Trail;  but  the  on-rushing  Gen- 
t ill's  have  trampled  their  names  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 
'I  here  were  Manti,  Moroni,  JXephi,  Bethlehem,  Crescent, 
Macedonia,  Preparation,  Mount  Pisgah,  Jordan,  Lehi,  and 
others;  in  all  of  which  1  have!  left  the  print  of  my  feet  in 
the  sand,  i  wonder,  could  I  go  back  to-day  and  follow 
the  dim  trails  across  the  prairies  from  stake  to  stake?  I 
can  see  the  landscape  unchanged:  the  dim  trails  winding 
along  the,  divides,  the  cabins  snuggled  away  in  the  groves, 
the  smoke  curling  up  from  the  stick  chimneys;  and  away 
over  yonder,  beyond  the  Honey  Creek  hills,  is  the  crossing 
of  the  Jordan,  and  across  the  prairie  to  the  eastward,  just 
visible  through  the  smoky  haze,  is  Macedonia  Grove  and 
the  camp  of  Nephi.  And  I  see  a  light-hearted,  freckle- 
faced  lad  cantering  along  on  the  trail.  Oh,  those  boyhood 
days !  so  free  from  care ;  not  anxious  for  the  morrow ;  be- 
fore the  evil  days,  which  come  sooner  or  later  into  every  life, 
had  come. 

When  the  moving  hosts  of  the  Saints  struck  the  Mis- 
souri River,  they  spread  to  the  north  and  to  the  south;  but 
the  principal  stake  was  at  Kanesville,  now  called  Council 
Bluffs,  because  an  Indian  council  was  held  at  the  foot  of  the 
river  bluffs,  where  the  little  creek  comes  out  of  the  hills 
onto  the  Missouri  River  valley.  Peter  A.  Sarpee,  an  old 
Frenchman,  who  lived  with  the  Indians  and  had  squaw 
wives,  and  for  whom  Sarpee  County,  Nebraska,  was  named, 
had  a  trading  station. at  Council  Bluffs.  And  the  Indians 
were  good  Indians  or  bad  Indians  in  harmony  with  old 
Peter's  variable  woods. 

Brigham,  as  a  prophet,  did  not  attain  to  the  stature 
of  Joseph,  but  h<3  did  some  work  along  that  line;  but  as 
an  organizer  and  a  leader,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  Brigham  was  a  Goliath  and  Joseph  but  a  shepherd 
lad.  Brigham  realized  that  when  the  slow  and  wearisome 
journey  of  six  months,  with  the  continual  physical  effort 
and  mental  strain,  would  be  ended,  and  the  hosts  took  up 


1UU  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 

the  tame  life  of  the  camp,  there  would  be  a  reaction  and  a 
feeling  of  unrest,  ending  in .  a  hankering  after  the  leeks 
and  onions  of  Egypt,  and  the  willows  would  be  bended  low 
with  the  unused  harps  of  Zion's  daughters;  and  also,  that 
Satan  finds  some  mischief  for  idle  hands  to  do.  But  Brig- 
ham  proposed  in  his  heart  that  few  harps  should  dangle  on 
the  willows,  and  that  there  should  be  but  few  idle  hands 
to  tempt  Satan;  for  Brigham's  motto  was,  "Keep  'em  busy 
and  loyal  to  the  Church."  And  a  great  booth,  called  "the 
Pavilion,"  was  builded;  and  in  the  evenings  the  old  and 
the  young,  the  gay  and  the  sad,  the  handsome  and  the 
unhandsome,  the  good  dancers  and  the  bad  dancers,  and  the 
elders  and  the  Apostles,  would  assemble.  And  when  the 
fiddles  had  been  twanged,  an  Apostle  or  an  elder  would 
step  forward  and  offer  a  fervent  prayer  to  Heaven  for  di- 
vine guidance  in  the  exercises  of  the  evening:  then  he 
would  grab  a  handsome  daughter  of  Zion,  and  go  whirling 
down  the  Pavilion  in  the  heart-to-heart  waltz  or  the  ex- 
hilarating galop.  And  to  this  day,  wherever  you  find  a 
"stake  of  Zion,"  you  will  find  a  dancing  people.  If  this 
was  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  what  a  lot  the  old- 
time  Methodists  and  the  others  cut  out  of  their  lives ! 

At  Nauvoo  the  beloved — and  Nauvoo  was  beloved  by 
the  common  people;  for  the  great  majority  of  the  old-time 
Saints  were  recruited  from  the  rural  districts  and  were  a 
simple-minded,  honest,  and  home-loving  people,  and  had 
descended  from  the  old  Puritan  stock.  Were  they  fanatical  ? 
Yes,  to  the  last  extreme.  Believing  that  Joseph  was  a  true 
prophet  of  the  Lord,  they^  obeyed  without  a  reason  or  back 
talk.  At  Nauvoo  there  had  been  dissatisfaction  and  schem- 
ing in  secret  places,  but  the  Gentiles,  by  their  insistent 
urging  to  move  on,  had  checked  these  things.  But  Brig- 
ham  had  not  forgotten  them ;  neither  had  he  forgotten  the 
parties  thereto.  One  morning  a  score  of  wagons  moved  out 
of  camp  and  down  to  the  Missouri  Eiver,  and  were  ferried 
over  into  the  Territory  of  Nebraska,  and  another  "stake 
of  Zion"  was  driven,  called  "Florence,"  seven  miles  above 
where  the  city  of  Omaha  was  afterwards  located.  And 
from  day  to  day  others  wrro  transferred  to  Florence,  until 
the  camps  were  about  half  and  half;  and  a  mile-wide  river 
rolled  between  the  schemers.  And  Brigham  proclaimed: 
"All  who  wish  to  have  a  part  in  Zioii  have  got  to  toe  the 
mark."  And  Brigham,  the  wonderful  controller  of  men, 
had  won  out. 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE      101 


CHAPTEH  XXII. 

1  am  not  writing  .Mormon  history,  but  many  years  of 
my  life  were  spent  among  these  people,  and  1  want  that 
you  should  know  something  of  the  privations  and  hard- 
ships of  these  "fanatical  people"  in  their  wanderings  in 
search  of  the  land  of  JShmehah  and  the  borders  of  the 
Lamanites.  It  is  always  the  mothers  that  suffer  the  most, 
and  because  the  wagons  were  too  few  for  the  multitude, 
there  were  provided  hand-carts,  and  these  were  called  "the 
push-cart  train/7  because  the  women  pushed  them  before 
them;  for  they  could  more  easily  push  them  than  pull 
them.  And  the  long  "push-cart  train, "  filled  with  bundles 
and  babies,  and  pushed  by  mothers  in  tattered  garments 
and  shoes  lashed  on  with  thongs  and  gaunt  with  hunger, 
followed  in  the  rear  of  the  wagon  train.  And  others,  be- 
cause the  push-carts  were  too  few,  dragged  themselves 
along,  carrying  a  baby  in  their  arms,  and  often  leading 
another  by  the  hand.  Much  of  the  time  they  subsisted  on 
corn  alone,  which  they  parched  and  ground  in  coffee-mills, 
and  with  water  only  it  was  baked  into  cakes.  And  the 
mothers,  that  the  babies  might  have  the  more,  skimped 
themselves.  Blankets  were  spread  on  the  frozen  ground, 
and  in  their  rain-soaked  garments  they  folded  their  babies 
close  and  spent  the  night  on  the  wind-swept  prairie.  And 
in  the  morning  many  of  these  tender,  loving  mothers  were 
carried  to  an  unmarked  grave  by  the  side  of  the  Old  Mor- 
mon Trail. 

There  is  a  big  tumult  just  now  being  made  about  the 
marking  of  the  Old  Santa  Fe  Trail.  There  is  more  woman- 
ly heroism,  more  tender,  loving,  unselfish,  motherly  self- 
denial,  more  true  wifely  devotion,  more  self-sacrifice  buried 
in  one  mile  along  the  Old  Mormon  Trail  than  there  is  in 
the  whole  dod-darned  Old  Santa  Fe  Trail,  from  the  one 
end  of  the  trail  to  the  other.  And  when  the  trumpet  of  the 
Lord  shall  sound,  and  time  shall  be  no  more,  and  all  that 
are  in  the  graves  shall  come  forth,  there  will  be  a  lane  of 
open  graves  along  the  Old  Mormon  Trail. 

Old  Father  Enos  was  a  tall,  slim  down-east  Yankee; 
for  you  know  that  Mormonism  was  born  and  laid  aside 
swaddling-clothes  and  put  on  pants  among  the  Yankees. 
Father  Enos  spoke  in  an  unknown  tongue  in  meeting. 


102  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

Father  Enos  had  a  soii-m-Jaw,  Dan,  and  Dan  was  the  best 
Mormon  1  ever  knew :  Dan  never  swore  and  Dan  said  grace 
at  table.  Dan  was  of  old  Puritan  stock  and  had  to  be  good. 
Dan  and  Freck  were  neighbors  and  friends,  and  in  the  fall 
they  rode  the  range  together,  rounding  up  their  cattle. 
Dan  was  a  Josephite  and  an  elder,  and  Dan  preached  to 
Freck,  and  Freck  read  the  Book  of  Mormon  and  many 
Mormon  books  and  papers.  And  Freck  knows  more  about 
the  early  history  of  the  Mormons  and  their  peculiar  relig- 
ious belief  than  three-fourths  of  the  members,  including 
the  elders.  (The  Mormons  call  their  preachers  "elders.") 
Father  Enos  was  getting  old  and  loved  to  talk  about  the 
past,  and  Freck  was  young  and  loved  to.  hear  about  the 
long  ago. 

At  the  first  he  was  poor,  unknown,  and  unlearned,  and 
he  was  called  "Joe  Smith";  but  an  angel  visited  him,  and 
he  became  "the  Prophet  Joseph."  But  the  Gentiles  still 
persisted  in  calling  him  "Joe  Smith."  It  came  about  in 
this  way :  There  was  a  sacred  hill,  Cumorah.  But  no  one 
knew  that1  it  was  sacred,  neither  did  they  know  that  it  was 
Cumorah.  And  an  angel  was  sent.  Now,  this  angel  was 
not  a  sure-enough,  old-time  angel;  but  was  made  an  angel 
for  a  purpose.  He  had  lived  and  died  simply  as  Moroni, 
the  son  of  Mormon.  Mormon  was  a  mighty  prophet  and 
historian,  and  he  wrote  a  history)  of  the  lost  tribe  of  the 
house  of  Israel,  and  also  many  prophecies  which  should 
come  to  pass  hereafter.  Mormon  wrote  in  the  old  Egyp- 
tian hieroglyphic  sign-writing,  engraven  on  golden  plates; 
and  when  Mormon  was  nearing  the  end,  he  called  his  son 
Moroni  and  committed  the  golden  plates  to  his  keeping; 
and  when  Moroni  was  called  upon  to  pass  through  the  gate 
into  the  blackness  of  the  darkness  and  sleep  with  his  fath- 
ers, he  buried  the  golden  plato?  in  the  sacred  hill  Cumorah. 
And  then  Moroni  died;  and  Moroni  remained  dead  for 
fourteen  hundred  years,  and  then  lie  was  called  from  the 
dead  for  the  express  purpose  of  leading  Joe  Smith  (for 
he  was  yet  only  the  humble  and  unknown  Joe  Smith)  to 
LCTed  bill  Cumorah:  for  only  Moroni  knew  where  the 
-olden  plates  were  buried.  Notwithstanding  the  changes 
that  had  taken  place  while  he  slept,  Moroni  walked  right 
up  to  the  plaoo  and  said:  "Joseph,  dig."  And  Joseph 
digged,  and  uncovered  a  bale  of  golden  plates,  and  also 
two  kidney-shaped  pebbles;  and  the  angel  and  Joseph  called 


.REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  103 

the  pebbles  "urim  and  thummim,"  but  by  those  a  little 
lower  than  the  angel  and  Joseph  they  were  called  "seer- 
tit ones,"  and  by  others  they  were  called  "peep-stones."  And 
the  angel  directed  Joseph  to  place  a  golden  plate,  one  at 
a  time,  in  the  bottom  of  his  tall,  hat,  and  place  the*  two 
pebbles  on  the  plates,  and  look  through  them;  and,  wonder 
of  wonders,  behold,  the  Egyptian  hieroglyphic  sign-writing 
appeared  in  plain  English  print !  And  J  osepb  read  it,  and 
Oliv-er  Cowdry,  the  scribe,  wrote  it  in  a  book;  hence  the 
name,  "Book  of  Mormon."  And  when  this  work  was  done, 
Joseph  was  commissioned  a  prophet. 

When  the  Prophet  Joseph  went  forth  to  publish  abroad 
this  new  religion,  to  prophesy,  and  to  call  for  recruits, 
Enos  was  among  the  first  to  stand  up  and  cry,  "Here  am 
I;  send  me."  Joseph  sent  them  from  the  sacred  hill 
Cumorah,  in  the  State  of  New  York,  to  Kirtland,  Ohio, 
where  they  drove  a  "stake  of  Zion"  and  had  a  lot  of  wrang- 
ling among  themselves;  for  some  said,  "Joseph  is  no 
prophet."  And  then  Joseph  the  Prophet  sent  them  on  to 
Zion's  city,  at  Independence,  Missouri,  where  they  were 
to  build  the  Templjs,  around  which  the  Saints  would  rally 
and  go  forth  to  conquer  the  world.  And  when  the  battles 
of  Crooked  Eiver  and  Haunts  Mill  were  fought,  Enos 
was  still  crying,  "Here  am  I;  send  me."  On  that  journey 
of  suffering  and  privation  toward  the  border,  when  the 
Gentile  Missourians,  with  guns  in  their  hands,  marched 
in  the  rear,  Enos  piloted  a  lank  team  of  oxen.  The  slight 
and  tenderly  reared  wife  of  his  young  manhood,  who  had 
left,  her  father's  pleasant  home  in  the  East  and  had  placed 
her  hand  in  his  hand,  saying,  "Enos,  where  thou  goest  1 
will  go,  and  thy  people  shall  be  my  people,"  she  had  fallen 
by  the  wayside,  and  her  last  resting-place  was  an  unmarked 
^rave  by  the  side  of  the  Old  Mormon  Trail.  She  left  Enoa 
two  little  girls,  who  had  grown  into  the  slight  form  and 
tender,  clinging  nature  of  their  mother;  and  one  became 
the  wife  of  Dan.  And  when  the  Gentiles  again  cried, 
"Move  on,  and  leave  Xauvoo  the  beloved  behind  your  back/' 
Enos  (and  Enos  had  married  again)  guided  an  ox  team 
toward  the  land  of  Shinehah.  Enos  had  spent  a  long  life- 
time seeking  the  land  of  Shinehah,  and  Enos  had  become  bit- 
ter through  oft  disappointment.  And  as  Freck  the  young 
and  Enos  the  aged  sat  of  a  summer  evening,  Enos  for  the 
last  time  placed  his  hand  on  FrecVs  shoulder,  saying: 


104  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

"Brother  Freck,  you  are  young ;  so  once  was  1.  My  long  life 
has  been  filled  with  toil  and  privation,  and  there  has  been 
but  little  good  in  it,  and  it  does  seem  hard  to  have  to  die 
and  go  to  Hell  at  last."  And  a  few  days  thereafter  his 
dappled  grays  ran  away  and  dragged  Enos  to  death. 

1  could  fill  a  book  with  the  stories  told  me  by  the  old- 
time  Saints,  who  were  old  when  I  was  young. 

There  was  a  division  in  the  Church  of  Latter-Day 
Saints.  The  better  class  withdrew,  and  formed  the  Re- 
organized Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-Day  Saints; 
but  the  names  were  too  long  for  the  common  people,  and 
they  were  called  "Brighamites"  and  "Josephites."  The 
Josephites  revolted  at  polygamy,  and  blood  atonement,  and 
the  power  of  the  husband  over  the  wife,  and  the  scene  in 
Eden,  and  the  Danites  or  the  Avenging  Angels,  and  seal- 
ing, and  many  other  sensual  things,  which  were  abhorrent 
to  the  moral  and  refined  sense  of  the  Josephites. 

Perhaps  you  do  not  fully  understand  "sealing*7  in  its 
fulness.  It  is  quite  a  simple  affair.  Should  a  Brighamite 
cast  his  sensual  eyes  upon  a  lovely  Gentile  woman,  wife  or 
maid,  he  has  her  "sealed"  to  him  for  eternity.  And  the 
power  of  the  husband  over  the  wife  worked  real  well  by 
the  side  of  polygamy.  You  see,  the  wife  is  dependent  on 
her  husband  for  her  resurrection;  and  should  one  of  the 
many  lose  her  sweetness  of  temper,  Jonathan  would  sim- 
ply remark :  "Mandy,  you  will  have  a  danged  long  sleep." 

Joseph,  the  son  of  the  Prophet,  stands  at  the  head  of 
the  Josephites.  I  have  heard  him  preach.  He  was  not  a 
fluent  speaker,  but  he  was  a  grave  and  earnest  man,  with 
a  spice  of  dignity,  and  left  a  good  impression. 

Undoubtedly  you  have  read  of  a  certain  personage 
(Genesis  iii.  1)  who  was  more  subtle  than  all  the  beasts  of 
the  field  which  the  Lord  made  in  the  creation.  The  Brig- 
hamite leaders  are  sure  a  subtle  lot.  They  do  easily  devise 
means  whereby  they  circumvent  the  laws  enacted  by  the 
combined  and  ponderous  wisdom  of  the  Congress  of  the 
United  States  and  evade  the  constitutional  requirements  of 
the  several  States,  and  go  right  on  multiplying  and  in- 
creasing the  number  of  the  Saints  by  way  of  plurality  of 
wives,  who  are  not  wives  and  whose  children  are  illegiti- 
mate in  the  eyes  of  the  law  of  the  land,  but  who  are  wive? 
by  the  mightier  power,  the  edict  of  the  Mormon  Church. 
And  nob  only  this,  but  they  shake  their  fists  in  the  face  of 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  105 

the  court  of  Heaven.  It  is  written  in  the  Magna  Charta 
of  Heaven:  "In  that  world  they  neither  marry  nor  are 
given  in  marriage."  There  are  beasts  of  prey  that  hunt  in 
pairs.  The  Brighamites  send  out  young  athletic  mission- 
aries in  pairs,  two  and  two,  saying:  "Go  ye;  and  as  ye 
go  preach  the  gospel  according  to  Mormon,  and  make  pros- 
elytes. And  as  ye  go  [this  is  not  written  into  the  commis- 
sion] keep  your  eyes  open  for  the  lovely  wives  and  daugh- 
ters of  the  wicked  Gentiles.  And  this  shall  be  your  hire." 
And  with  rejoicing  they  go  forth,  without  money  and  with- 
out price.  David,  the  king  and  psalm-writer,  said:  "I 
was  glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Come  up  to  the  house 
of  the  Lord."  And  surely  the  hearts  of  those  returning 
athletic  missionaries  must  tingle  with  gladness  when  it  is 
said  unto  them:  "Come  up  to  the  House  of  Endowment, 
and  we  will  seal  unto  you  the  lovely  Gentile  wives  and 
daughters  you  have  chosen.  And  we  will  smile  at  the  vain 
efforts  of  the  court  of  Heaven  to  set  aside  your  marriage; 
for  what  we  seal  on  earth  is  bound  in  Heaven  to  all  eter- 
nity." My  Gentile  brother,  have  you  a  lovely  wife  or 
daughter  ?  Beware  of  those  who  hunt  in  pairs. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

For  two  weeks  we  remained  in  camp  on  Red  OaL 
Creek,  in  the  valley  of  the  East  Nishnabotna  River,  on  the 
ground  where  now  stands  the  beautiful  city  of  Red  Oak. 
We  rode  and  drove  over  the  country  for  many  miles,  seek- 
ing a  location,  but  found  it  not;  for  the  country  was  only 
a  great  sea  of  magnificent  prairie,  and  no  pioneer  could 
build  a  home  without  rails  and  logs. 

One  evening  a  young  man  and  wife,  with  four  yoke 
of  oxen,  came  down  the  trackless  divide  and  went  into 
camp.  They  were  sun-tanned  and  travel-worn;  for  they 
had  been  a  long  time  on  the  way,  having  come  from  Illi- 
nois. He  tramped  around  looking  for  a  location,  and 
selected  a  little  grove  on  the  Tarkio,  and  they  moved  their 
camp  into  the  grove.  His  name  was  Dinwiddy,  and  they  set 
up  housekeeping  by  the  side  of  a  log.  He  cut  and  snaked 
out  the  logs  for  a  cabin,  and  she  helped  saw  the  clap- 
board blocks;  and  she  drove  the  oxen  to  roll  up  logs,  while 
he  kept  them  on  the  skids ;  and  she  passed  up  the  clap- 


106  KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

boards,  and  he  placed  them  on  the  roof;  and  the  house  was 
completed.  Of  course  the  earth  was  the  floor,  and  windows 
there  was  none,  and  the  door  was  made  of  split  slabs  and 
fastened  to  the  wooden  hinges  with  wooden  pins ;  but  they 
moved  in  and  called  it  our  home,  and  they  sat  in  their 
cabin  home  and  listened  to  the  wind  whispering  among 
ihe  trees  and  to  the  rustling  of  the  leaves,  and  they  spoke 
softly  of  the  old  Lome  and  hopefully  of  the  new  home  on 
the  western  frontier.  Meeting  the  Father  one  day,  Mr, 

Dinwiddy  said :     "Mr,  L ,  I  want  to  trade  you  a  yoke 

of  oxen  for  a  horse;  for  you  know  we  are  living  away  out 
there  by  oursellves."  And  the  Father  gave  him  a  young 
horse  for  a  yoke  of  oxen  and  twenty  dollars. 

And  the  lovely,  smoky,  hazy,  melancholy  autumn  days 
moved  in  and  went  into  camp  along  the  bends  of  the  creeks, 
and  painted  the  leaves  yellow  and  red;  and  the  wind  stirred 
the  long  beard  on  the  face  of  the  prairie,  and  moaned  and 
sobbed  in  the  tree-tops,  and  piled  the  red  and  yellow  leaves 
in  heaps,  and  filled  the  heart  with  a  solemnly  glad  sadness. 
And  one  night  Mr.  Dinwiddy  galloped  to  Frankford  anr1 
galloped  home  again;  and  Uncle  John,  with  Doctor  Bond 
and  his  wife  and  Aunt  Anna,  drove  quickly  to  the  c^bin  in 
the  grove.  And  they  watched  through  the  night  while  the 
girl  wife  passed  the  night  in  convulsions.  Just  as  the  sun 
was  showing  his  smiling  face  above  the  rim  of  the  earth, 
for  the  sun  paid  no  heed  to  the  sorrow  and  the  anguish  in 
the  cabin  home,  there  was  a  few  moments  of  quiet ;  and 
looking  up  into  Aunt  Anna's  face,  she  asked:  "Aunt 
Anna,  does  the  Bible  not  say,  They  shall  be  saved  in  child- 
bearing'?"  And  Aunt  Anna  pressed  her  cheek  against  her 
cheek  and  bathed  it  with  her  tears  as  she  answered :  "Y<s, 
•my  dear  child,  the  Bible  does  say,  'They  shall  be  saved  in 
ehildbearing.' ''  Again  a  paroxysm  of  pain  laid  bold  on 
her,  and  she  raised  up  and  cried  out  in  travail,  and  fell 
hack  on  the  pillows;  and  Xature  gave  over  the  struggle1, 
and  all  was  Mill — the  stillness  of  death.  Strange  but  ten- 
der hands  prepared  her  for  her  burial.  Poor  girl!  so 
young,  and  her  heart  filled  with  the  beautiful  hopes  of 
youth,  and  so  earne-ilv  endeavoring  to  build  a  home  on  the 
western  front ier.  Some  hoards  were  taken  from  the  court- 
house floor  and  a  rough  coffin  was  made,  and  a  grave  was 
dug  in  ihe  ^rove  under  a  giva!  spreading  oak,  and  strang- 
ers carried  her  out,  and  with  no  minister  to  read  the  burial 


RKMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  107 

service,  she  and  her  unborn  babe  were  lowered  into  the  dark 
and  silent  grave.  The'  autumn  wind  sobbed  as  it  passed  by, 
and  the  old  oak  dropped  his  tears  of  red  and  yellow  leaves 
upon  her  coffin,  and  the  sun  dropped  a  cloud  veil  over  his 
face  while  the  clods  of  the  valley  were  placed  over  her;  and 
the  strangers  turned  their  faces  toward  their  homes.  Mr. 
Dinwiddy  remained  in  his  cabin  home  during  the  winter, 
with  his  oxen  and  his  horse  and  the  lone  grave  to  keep  him 
company. 

The  camel,  on  the  edge  of  the  great  sand  desert,  kneels 
down  and  receives  her  burden,  bound  with  cords,  and  strug- 
gles to  her  feet  and  starts  out  into  the  desolation  of  drift- 
ing sand ;  and  when  the  burden  of  sorrow  is  laid  at  our  feet, 
like  the  camel  of  the  desert,  we  kneel  down  and  with  tne 
cords  of  memory  bind  it  to  our  heart,  and  struggle  to  our 
feet  and  pass  out  into  the  sand-drifted  desolation  of  life. 

The  next  fall  Freck  rode  past  the  lone,  forsaken  cab- 
in; the  sun  was  closing  the  door  and  calling  to  the  stars 
to  come  out,  and  the  darkening  twilight  shadows  were  seek- 
ing a  resting-place.  And  the  silence  was  broken  bv  the 
plaintive  voice  of  a  bird  bereaved  of  his  mate;  but  she 
answered  not.  And  the  wind  whispered,  and  the  trees 
bowed  their  heads,  and  from  out  the  gathering  darkness, 
over  by  the  lone  grave,  Freck  heard  a  sobbing,  girlish  voice 
calling:  "Oh,  Freck,  Freck!  I  'm  alone!  I'm  alone! 
and  will  you  also  go  away  and  leave  me  ?"  And  Freck  rodo 
into  the  approaching  darkness  with  a  strong  inclination  to 
look  back  over  his  shoulder. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

One  evening  Freck  was  driving  through  Silket's  Grove 
when  he  heard  a  voice  calling:  "Hey,  young  man!  Are 
you  afraid  to  trade?"  "Try  me,  and  then  you  will  know/"' 
And  in  thirty  minutes  Freck  was  driving  three  yoke  of 
oxen  toward  camp.  "Boys,  round  up  the  stock  in  the  morn- 
ing." And  in  the  morning  Margaret  took  her  seat  and, 
Freck  walking  by  the  side  of  four  yoke  of  oxen,  they  started 
off  to  the  southward.  Mile  after  mile  they  followed  the 
winding  divide  between  the  East  Xishnabotna  and  the 
Tarkio;  and  to  the  east  and  to  the  west,  and  to  the  north 
anrl  to  the  south,  as  far  a=  the  eve  could  reach,  was  an  ex- 


108  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

tended  landscape  of  magnificent  prairie,  without  an  in- 
habitant. This  has  developed  into  an  empire  of  corn  and 
cattle,  the  equal  of  any  spot  on  earth ;  but  was  of  no  good 
to  the  early  pioneer  seeking  a  home,  before  the  advent  of 
railroads  and  wire  fencing.  They  came  to  the  Old  Mormon 
Trail  and  turned  east,  crossing  the  Tarkio,  then  following 
the  divide  between  the  Tarkio  and  Nodaway  until  they  came 
to  the  little  Seceder  colony  near  the  Missouri  line,  called 
Amity,  now  known  as  College  Springs.  And  they  did  not 
see  a  person  nor  pass  a  house  on  the  way. 

Freck  returned  to  Frankford,  and  John  and  Tom 
(John's  big  brother)  and  Freck  started  afoot  for  Nebraska 
Territory.  The  United  States  surveyors  had  just  passed 
along  sectionizing,  and  on  the  section  lines  there  were  lit- 
tle mounds,  a  mile  apart,  with  little  stakes,  and  the  num- 
ber of  the  section  penciled  on  the  stake.  They  followed 
the  mounds  across  the  trackless  prairie,  and  when  they  came 
to  the  Nishnabotna  River,  Tom  and  John  swam  across,  car- 
rying over  the  boots;  but  Freck  couldn't  swim,  so  Tom  re- 
turned, grasped  him  by  the  collar,  and  towed  him  across. 
And  this  is  the  way  boys  got  to  the  front  in  the  early  days. 
They  crossed  the  wide  river  bottom,  the  grass  higher  than 
their  heads,  the  sun  shining  in  all  his  glory,  and  they  dy- 
ing of  thirst ;  and  when  they  reached  the  top  of  the  divide, 
they  came  into  the  trail.  There  they  met  two  sorry-looking 
men,  ragged  and  travel-strained,  with  a  cart  made  out  of 
the  hind  gear  of  a  wagon  and  a  lean,  footsore  yoke  of  oxen 
In  the  early  days  it  was  the  duty  of  the  Danites  or  the 
.Avenging  Angels  to  see  that  no  homesick  Saint  got  away 
irom  the  New  Jerusalem,  or  any  other  "stake  of  Zion." 
But  these  two  had  eluded  the  Avenging  Angels,  and  had 
come  all  the  way  from  Salt  Lake  alone.  And  they  told 
all  about  the  Mountain  Meadow  massacre ;  and  they  added : 
"It  took  two  years  to  dodge  the  Angels;  and  if  we  can 
reach  our  old  home,  we  will  be  good  as  long  as  we  live." 
Coming  to  a  cabin  on  the  West  Nislmabotna,  the  first  and 
only  house  on  the  way,  they  staid  over  night.  The  next 
day  they  passed  through  Glenwood,  the  county  seat  of  Mills 
County.  Coming  to  Pony  Crook,  they  rested  in  the  shade 
of  an  oak  tree  by  the  wayside. 

How  wonderful  are  the  provisions  of  Nature  for  the 
accommodation  of  man  and  to  meet  his  requirements! 
When  the  waters  of  Noah  subsided,  a  narrow  ridge  was 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  109 

formed  (we  called  them  "hogbacks'7);  and  a  tiny  acorn 
nestled  by  the  side  of  this  "hogback/7  And  the  rain  and 
sun  said  to  the  tiny  acorn :  "Send  out  rootlets."  And  the 
rootlets  said:  "We  must  have  breath/7  And  the  sun  and 
the  rain  said :  "Send  up  after  it.77  And  the  rootlets  build- 
ed  an  air-shaft  and  called  it  "the  oak.77  And  seemingly 
looking  forward  to  the  time  when  the  white  man  would  in- 
habit the  land,  the  oak  stretched  an  arm  across  the  "hog- 
back." And  when  the  pioneers  pushed  up  into  Pony  Creek 
valley,  they  blazed  a  trail  along  this  narrow  ridge,  and  in 
time  it  was  called  "the  Big  Road.77 

There  are  men  who  are  in  a  hurry;  they  can't  wait 
for  a  calf  to  expand  into  an  ox,  nor  for  a  colt  to  reach 
horsehood.  And  some  of  these  hurry  men  found  their  way 
into  Pony  Creek  valley,  and  horses  and  oxen  didn't  come 
home  any  more.  The  settlers  watched,  and  one  night  four 
of  these  hurry  men  ran  up  against  the  muzzle  of  guns,  and 
two  of  them  didn't  get  away.  Their  hands  were  tied  be- 
hind their  backs  and  their  legs  around  the  horses;  and 
when  they  came  into  the  Big  Road,  they  halted  under  the 
arm  of  the  oak;  and  when  the  ropes  were  adjusted,  the 
leader  called:  "Come  on,  boys,  and  fetch  the  horses.7' 
And  they  left  the  two  hurry  men  side  by  side;  but  their 
feet  didn7t  quite  touch  the  ground. 

Years  afterwards  one  of  those  who  got  away  returned 
and  lived  with  his  widowed  mother,  a  white-haired  and 
kind  Christian  old  lady,  from  whose  heart  all  the  gladness 
of  this  life  was  crushed  out  by  the  misconduct  of  her  sons. 
And  the  Devil  ha?  not  been  able  to  evolve  a  surer  mode  of 
crushing  the  gladness  out  of  the  hearts  of  fathers  and 
mothers  than  by  the  misconduct  of  their  children.  And 
the  minister  met  this  young  man  (who  was  running  a  little 

den  down  town)  and  said :  "Mr.  R ,  we  are  holding 

meetings,  and  I  will  be  pleased  to  see  you."  "All  right, 
parson ;  but  business  before  pleasure.  There  are  a  few  boys 
I  haven't  fleeced  yet :  but  when  I  get  through  shearing, 
T  '11  come  around  and  hear  you  spout."  And  with  a  leei 
he  walked  away. 

Tom,  John,  and  Freck  stayed  over  night  on  Pony 
Creek.  And  the  next  day,  from  a  high  point  of  the  river 
bluff,  they  for  the  first  time  beheld  the  wide  valley  of  the 
Missouri  River.  The  tall  grass  was  like  a  mighty  field  of 
grain  waving  in  the  breeze,  and  miles  and  miles  away  was 


110  REMIXISCEXCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

seen  the  mighty  river  wending  its  way  to  the  far-away  sea; 
but  not  an  inhabitant  in  all  the  land.  They  followed 
around  the  horseshoe  bend,  and  came  into  "the  stake  of 
Zion,"  Council  Bluffs,  with  one  straggling  street  and  a 
clump  of  cabins.  In  time  they  came  to  the  Missouri 
River  and  were  ferried  over,  and  on  the  fourth  day  of  July, 
1856,  they,  with  little  packs  on  their  backs,  walked  into  the 
city  of  Omaha.  The  city  of  Omaha  consisted  of  one  or  two 
score  of  cheap  board  shacks,  scattered  over  the  hillside;  not 
a  street  in  the  town.  The  City  Hotel  was  an  unfinished 
four-room  house,  with  an  ell  kitchen;  at  night  the  tables 
and  chairs  were  moved  out  and  blankets  spread  on  the  floor, 
and  a  row  of  men,  with  their  feet  pointing  to  the  center 
and  their  clothes  on,  battled  with  the  mosquitoes,  for  one 
dollar  a  night  and  supper  and  breakfast.  The  Capitol 
building  was  a  hole  in  the  ground,  with  the  stone  walls  a 
few  feet  high,  and  was  a  mile  from  the  town.  Near  by, 
in  a  grove,  was  a  big  Indian  camp. 

One  morning  a  steamboat,  by  way  of  the  long  "Whoo ! 
Whoo-o!  \Vhoo-o-o!"  from  the  whistle  and  "Ding-dong! 
Ding-dong!  Ding-dong!"  from  the  great  bell,  called: 
"I  'm  going  to  land !  I  'm  going  to  land !  I  'm  going  to 
land !"  And  John  and  Freck  ran  down  to  the  landing 
and  hired  for  deckhands,  at  forty  dollars  a  month.  They 
hastened  back  to  the  hotel  for  their  little  bundles  and  to 
tell  Tom;  but  Tom  was  much  the  older,  and  Tom  said: 
"No,  boys,  you  don't  go  on  no  steamboat  to*  be  taken  down 
South  and  work  side  by  side  with  'nigger'  slaves,  and  die 
of  yellow  fever.  No,  boys,  you  don't."  And  John  and 
Frock  didn't. 

The  next  day  Tom  hired  the  three  to  Seth  Chase,  a 

fiant  of  the  frontier,  who  with  Wilson  was  rafting  logs 
own  the  Missouri  "River  to  Omaha.  The  logging  camp  was 
a  hundred  miles  by  river  above  Omaha  :  hut  a  little  Govern- 
ment steamboat,  carrying  supplies  to  the  upper  forts,  drop- 
ped them  off  in  the  big  woods  near  the  camp.  John  and 
Freck  were  put  to  work  with  the,  camp  force,  building  tin1 
logs  into  rafts;  hut  Tom  was  an  oarsman,  and  ran  on  the 
river  with  Seth.  who  wa?  the  pilot,  and  four  others:  three 
men  to  each  oar. 

There  was  a  young  man — I  never  knew  his  name;  we 
called  him  "Mount"  because  he  came  from  Mount  Pleas- 
nnt:  md  one  morning  he  offered  to  go  as  an  oarsman. 


REMINISCENCES   OF    PlONEER    LlFE  1  1  1 

The  lines  were  let  go,  and  the  raft,  was  shoved  out  into  the 
channel,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  raft  hung  up  on  a  bar; 
they  worked  all  night,  but  the  current  kept  the  raft  jam- 
med against  the  bar.  And  in  the  morning  Seth  pulled  off 
his  boots  and  said:  "Boys,  I  know  where  there  are  some 
settlers  on  the  Nebraska  side,  and  I  am  going  to  swim 
ashore  and  get  a  skiff  and  fetch  some,  grub."  And  Seth 
plunged  off  and  struck  out  diagonally  for  the  shore  a  mile 
away.  Mount  watched  him  for  a  few  moments,  and  th'-n 
he  plunged  off  to  follow,  but  before  he  got  a  hundred  yards, 
lie  wont  under  and  never  rose  again.  How  often  I  have 
thought  of  that  young  man!  By  name  unknown  to  his 
fellow-workmen,  but  he  was  some  mother's  boy.  And  I 
have  thought:  "Had  it  been  Freck,  and  the  mother  wait- 
ing and  waiting  and  no  word  from  Freck/' 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  last  of  the  fifteen  hundred  logs  was  rolled  into 
the  river  and  floated  around  and  pinned  into  the  raft,  and 
the  long  sweeps  were  placed  on  the  rowlocks,  and  the  raft 
was  snubbed  to  a  stump  at  both  ends.  And  a  supper  of  flap- 
jacks, bacon,  and  coffee,  in  the  logging  camp  in  Big  Net- 
tle Bend,  where  the  wolves  would  steal  up  and  lap  the 
gravy  from  the  skillet  within  a  rod  of  the  tent  where  we 
were  sleeping,  was  prepared  for  the  last  time.  And  just  as 
the  rising  sun  was  gilding  the  tree-tops  on  the  Calhoun 
Hills.  Seth  called:  "Let  go  the  lines."  And  the  long 
sweeps  were  put  in  motion  and  the  heavy  raft  was  pushed 
out  into  the  current,  and  we  floated  down  past  Fiddler's 
Elbow.  Horseshoe  Bend,  and  the  Cat  Heads,  and  through 
Satan's  Teeth.  Tying  up  in  Eddv  Bend  for  the  night, 
thev  went  a  mile  back  from  the  river  to  a  settler's  cabin 
and  had  supper.  Then  they  stretched  themselves,  without 
blankets,  on  the  ground,  and  with  the  stars  smiling  down 
into  their  faces,  they  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  of  "the  girl 
T  left  behind  me." 

Tom,  John,  and  Freck  again,  with  the  toes  pointing 
the  other  wav,  rested  beneath  the  arm  of  the  Oak  on  Pony 
Creek.  And  as  they  rested  thev  moralized  on  the  wav  of 
the  transgressor,  and  speculated  whether  Nature  purposely 
provides  the  means,  or  man  avails  himself  of  the  purpose- 


112  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIEE 

less  works  of  Nature,  to  execute  judgment  upon  the  pate  of 
the  wrongdoer.  And  in  due  time  they  arrived  at  home. 

Meantime  the  Father  had  selected  a  new  location,  on 
the  Nodaway  River,  in  the  northeast  corner  of  Page  Coun- 
ty. He  had  also  ordered  a  steam  saw-mill  from  Cincin- 
nati, to  be  shipped  by  steamboat  to  Saint  Joseph,  Missouri. 
The  oxen  were  yoked  to  the  wagons,  and  again  Freck  and 
Margaret  led  the  procession  toward  the  new  location.  And 
a  cabin  was  builded,  and  the  mill  was  drawn,  from  Saint 
Joseph,  a  hundred  miles,  and  soon  the  buzz  of  the  saw  was 
heard  in  the  ISTodaway  valley. 

There  were  eight  settlers  in  this  bend,  and  all  of  them 
had  moved  in  within  the  year.  Late  in  the  fall  a  prairie 
schooner,  drawn  by  two  yoke  of  oxen,  and  driven  by  a 
young  man,  "Press,"  pulled  into  the  setlement;  and  seated 
among  the  stuff  was  his  widowed  mother  and  his  sister 
Mary.  And  they  went  into  camp  near  the  Fathers,  and 
all  were  busy  preparing  for  the  winter,  and  no  cabin  could 
be  built.  And  the  Mother  said:  "The  storms  of  winter 
will  soon  be  here,  and  what  are  those  people  going  to  do  for 
shelter?"  "I  know  not,"  replied  the  Father;  for  his  rime 
was  fully  occupied  with  his  mill  and  other  affairs.  And  the 
Mother  said:  "I  know  what  I'm  going  to  do."  "And 
pray  what,  are  you  going  to  do?"  Xow,  the  Father  had 
ImiJt  a  double  cabin,  and  the  Mother  answered:  "I  Jm  go- 
ing to  move  all  of  our  things  into  on&  room,  for  there  are 
but  eight  of  us  and  we  can  get  along  all  right  until  spring, 
and  these  people  shall  move  in."  And  they  did  move  in. 
And  the  events  of  a  lifetime,  for  four,  were  hinged  upon 
and  turner]  upon  their  moving  in. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

It  was  called  "The  Forks."  At  the  junction  of  the 
Middle  and  the  West  rivers  there  was  a  narrow  neck  of 
land,  grown  over  with  large  trees  and  free  from  under- 
brush, and  every  other  Saturday  afternoon,  in  the  fall  of 
the  year,  the  settlers  would  come  from  far  and  near  to  The 
Forks  to  a  shooting-match.  Each  paid  his  money  and  had 
~o  irnnv  "shoots,"  and  with  the  money  a  beef  was  bought 
and  "shot  off."  The  beef  was  divider!  into  five  parts,  and 
the  best  shot  took  first  choice.  The  distance  for  offhand 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  113 

shooting  was  fifty  paces,  and  with  a  rest,  seventy-five  paces. 
Each  one  fetched  along  his  own  target,  a  charred  board 
with  a  bit  of  white  paper  in  the  center.  All  the  guns  were 
muzzle-loaders.  The  judges  would  place  the  target  against 
the*  great  oak  and  step  to  one  side,  and  after  each  shot  call : 
"To  the  right,"  or  "To  the  left,"  or  "Too  high,"  or  "Too 
low";  and  at  times,  "Broke  center";  and  occasionally, 
"Drove  center,"  when  the  shooter  could  do  no  better,  and 
would  shoot  no  more.  And  sometimes  a  pony  or  a  gun 
or  a  wati-h  would  be  "shot  off";  almost  anything  to  have  a 
good  time. 

And  there  were  pony  races,  backed  with  a  couple  of 
dollars.  One  afternoon  a  couple  of  young  men,  Jack  and 
Bill,  rode  up  leading  a  nice  bay  horse  with  ribbons  braided 
in  his  mane  and  tail;  they  had  just  come  around  hoping 
to  witness  a  horse-race.  "No,"  said  Bill,  "I  never  bet  on 
a  horse-race — that  is,  hardly  ever;  but  Jack  does,  some- 
times. And  Jack  sometimes  matches  his  bay  against  a  good 
horse."  Now,  there  lived  up  the  Middle  River  three  broth- 
ers, John,  Tom,  and  Ed.  John  always  walked  before,  and 
Tom  and  Ed  followed.  And  they  managed,  when  John 
walked  before,  to  absorb  a  good  many  of  the  transitory 
pleasures  and  some  money.  And  they  also  kept  a  brown 
horse,  which  ambled  occasionally  along  the  race-track,  and 
generally  paid  a  dividend.  Jack  and  John  had  a  few 
words,  and  John  fetched  his  brown  horse  from  the  thicket ; 
and  Jack  looked  him  over,  and  called  out :  "Boys,  it 's  all 
off.  I  won't  match  my  horse  against  that  old  plug."  Now, 
Bill  was  riding  a  bald-faced,  ewe-necked  mare  with  three 
white  stockings;  her  mane  and  tail  were  sticking  full  of 
hay  and  she  was  covered  with  an  old  saddle-blanket.  And 
Bill  looked  over  the  disappointed  crowd  and  called  out: 
"Boys,  I  'd  rather  loose  five  dollars  myself  than  to  have  you 
disappointed,  and  I  '11  match  my  old  bald-faced  plow-mare 
against  the  brown,  and  we  '11  have  a  little  fun  anyway." 
"All  right,"  said  John;  "put  up  your  money."  And  each 
handed  five  dollars  to  the  stake-holder.  In  his  loose-fitting 
homespun  and  tumble-down  hat,  John  didn't  look  it,  but  he 
knew  the  bald-face  was  a  racer;  and  he  also  noticed  that 
she  was  fidgety  and  excitable.  On  the  way  to  the  race-track 
John  was  walking  before ;  he  spoke  a  few  low  words  to  Tom 
and  Ed,  and  they  and  a  few  friends  sauntered  down  the 
track  and  halted  in  a  couple  of  groups.  The  horses  came 


114  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

thundering  down  the  track,  and  the  first  group  shouted  and 
threw  their  hats  and  the  second  did  likewise.  And  the 
brown,  with  his  nose  sticking  out  and  his  belly  close  to  the 
ground,  passed  right  on  for  all  he  was  worth ;  but  the  bald- 
face  flew  the  track,  and  the  brown  crossed  the  scratch  a 
length  ahead.  Jack  and  Bill  said  something,  and  John  let 
them  run  down  some,  and  then  he  said,  or  words  to  this 
effect:  "Boys,  this  is  very  unseemly  conduct.  You  started 
in  to  deceive  and  cheat;  now  take  your  pills  and  don't 
make  faces;  and  here,  wash  'em  down  with  this/*'  And 
he  handed  them  a  flask  of  whiskey.  Jack  muttered,  "We 
are  but  two,"  and  slipped  the  flask  into  a  hip  pocket;  and 
they  rode  away,  leading  the  bald-face,  which  would,  had 
she  been  left  alone,  surely  have  thrown  gravel  into  the  face 
of  the  brown. 

CHAPTER,  XXVII. 

Our  customary  "squaw  winter"  did  not  come  around 
this  fall,  but  the  lovely,  smoky,  hazy  autumn  days  came 
right  on,  until  December.  But  at  the  break  of  day  on  De- 
cember 2d  the  great  snow-flakes  commenced  coming  down 
so  thickly  that  the  light  of  the  day  was  shut  out,  and  they 
fell  for  thirty-six  hours,  until  the  snow  lay  three  feet  deep. 
And  this  winter  was  a  winter  of  suffering  and  loss  to  the 
settlers  on  the  western  frontier.  There  were  eight  settlers 
in'  this  bend  of  the  river,  and  all  had  moved  in  during  the 
summer.  Some  prairie  had  been  broken,  but  nothing  had 
been  raised,  and  the  wild  prairie  hay  was  the  only  feed  for 
the  stock.  The  settlers  lost  the  most  of  their  stock  this 
winter;  the  horses  were  saved  by  felling  young  cotton  wood 
trees,  and  the  horses  would  gnaw  the  bark,  but  the  cattle 
could  not  do  this. 

Up  to  this  time  the  deer  in  the  West  were  very  plenti- 
ful ;  but  when  the  deep  snow  crusted  over,  the  sharp  hoofs 
of  the  deer  would  cut  through,  and  they  would  floundor 
in  the  snow.  The  wolves  would  scurry  along  over  the 
frozen  snow  and  fall  upon  them  and  devour  iluMti  at  their 
will.  In  the  bends  of  the  streams,  whore  ih<>  drer  would 
gather  for  shelter  and  to  browse,  the  ground  was  covered 
with  their  bleaching  bone?.  And  from  this  time  on  deer 
were  scarce  in  the  West. 

About  the  first  of  Fobruarv  the  Father  sorted  out  all 


REMINISCENCES  OP  PIONEER  LIFE  115 

of  his  cattk-  that  were  able  to  travel  and  drove  therm  down 
into  Missouri,  a  hundred  miles,  and  had  them  fed  until 
grass.  But  he  lost  about  twenty  cows.  To  the  old-timers 
this  was  "the  winter  of  the  deep  snow." 

The  northwest  wind  howled  and  shrieked,  and  drove 
the  snow  through  the  chinks  and  piled  it  in  great  drifts, 
causing  much  suffering  and  sickness.  But  to  Margaret  and 
Freck,  and  to  Press  and  Mary  what  did  it  matter — the 
howling  wind,  the  swirling  snow,  the  swaying  trees,  and 
the  wailing  woods?  They  had  entered  the  valley  of  sun- 
shine, and  were  walking  in  the  mossy  path  of  youthful, 
hopeful  gladness;  and  there  was  no  winter  in  the  valley  of 
sunshine,  and  flowers  grew  in  the  snow-banks,  and  this  bit- 
ing northwest  wind  had  lost  his  teeth,  and  seemed  to  come 
floating  along  through  orange  groves.  And  there  were 
seven  days  and  seven  nights  in  the  week,  but  the  time  was 
far  too  short  to  tell  all  of  the  old,  old  story.  And  while  they 
were  walking  along  the  mossy  paths  through  the  valley  of 
sunshine,  and  telling  the  old,  old  story,  the  savage  old 
Winter  died.  The  sweet  and  tender  young  Spring  of  1857 
came  to  his  funeral  and  shed  her  tears  over  his  grave,  and 
covered  it  with  a  plaid  of  green,  and  scattered  flowers  all 
along  in  his  footprints.  And  the  great  throbbing  heart  of 
the  toiling  world  forgot  all  about  the  storms  and  the  suf- 
fering, and  was  filled  with  gladness. 

And  Press  and  Freck  drove  a  couple  of  heavy  loads  of 
lumber,  each  drawn  by  three  yoke  of,  oxen,  to  Clarinda,  and 
next  morning  they  crossed  the  square  and  walked  into  the 
ramshackle  court-house,  and  depositing  a  dollar  each  on 
the  counter,  inquired:  'Mr.  Baldhead,  will  you  exchange 
a  couple  of  licenses  to  marry  for  the  money  in  sight  ?" 
"Sure/7  answered  Mr.  Baldhead.  "And  you  boys  are 
minded  to  trot  in  double  harness  ?"  "Bet  yer  life  we  're  so 
minded."  "Now,  boys,  listen  to.  me :  I  Jve  been  trotting  in 
double  harness  for  forty  years.  Xow,  don't  try  to.  jockey 
your  running-mate,  and  make  her  fly  the  track;  but  you 
keep  right  along  on  your  own  side,  and  you  will  cross  the 
scratch  neck  and  neck."  "Thank  you,"  said  Press.  "Thank 
you,"  said  Freck.  And  they  walked  out,  yoked  their  oxen, 
and  started  to  bear  the  glad  tidings  to  Margaret  and  Mary. 

When  Freck  paid  for  the  license  and  bought  a  few 
things  for  himself  and  Mary,  he  was  still  the  cheerful  and 
hopeful  possessor  of  a  bald-face  pony  and  a  saddle,  a  five- 


116  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

dollar  goldpiece  and  four  bits  in  silver,  and  a  bull's-eye  sil- 
ver watch,  for  which  he  had  traded  a  fiddle,  which  he  had 
bought  of  the  big  Hoosier  Pete  for  two  dollars.  And  on  the 
morning  of  April  7,  1857,  Freck  buckled  the  saddle  on  the 
bald-faced  pony  and  led  her  up  to  the  horse-block,  and 
Mary  took  her  seat,  and  they  started  to  go  to  the  Harris 
Settlement.  The  Harris  Settlement  was  away  down  the 
river,  on  the  west  side,  and  consisted  of  four  cabins,  and  in 
one  of  these  unfinished  cabins  lived  Doctor  McKesson. 
Doctor  McKesson  dealt  out  blue-mass  and  quinine  to  the 
settlers  living  up  and  down  the  valley;  for  in  those  early 
days  of  swampy  land  along  the  river  almost  all,  even  the 
babies,  spent  the  fall  months  in  taking  blue-mass  and  quin- 
ine and  shaking  with  the  ague.  Doctor  McKesson  was  also 
a  Methodist  preacher,  and  this  is  why  Freck  and  the  bald- 
faced  pony  were  making  tracks  pointing  toward  the  Har- 
ris' Settlement.  They  came  to  Reub'a  Ford,  but  because  of 
the  spring  rains  Reub's  Ford  was  not  available.  But  the 
Doctor  was  waiting  with  his  cottonwood  canoe,  and  so  were 
Martha^  Dyke  and  her  sister,  who  were  going  over  to  see 
the  yoke  put  on.  The  bald-faced  pony  was  tied  to  a  limb, 
and  then  it  was  Freck  and  Mary  who  were  making  tracks 
pointing  toward  the  unfinished  cabin  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluffs.  Martha  Dyke  and  her  sister  were  amazed  to  witness 
how  submissively  Freck  and  Mary  stood  to  be  yoked.  Freck 
and  Mary  were  the  first  couple  ever  married  in  Valley 
Township,  and  they  were  married  in  a  pioneer  Methodist 
preacher's  unfinished  cabin,  on  the  western  frontier.  And 
Judge  C.  L.  McKesson,  who  at  this  writing  is  city  attorney 
for  the  city  of  Colorado  Springs,  Colorado,  a  son  of  Doctor 
McKesson,  who  yoked  Freck  and  Mary  in  his  unfinished 
cabin,  was  born  in  this  same  cabin  on  the  western  frontier. 
Freck  passed  the  five-dollar  goldpiece  to  the  Doctor,  and 
received  his  thanks.  And  the  Doctor's  wife  spoke  kind 
words,  and  the  Doctor  set  them  over  on  their  own  side  of 
the  river.  On  their  homeward  journey  Freck  and  Mary 
followed  what  novelists  would  call  a  bridle-path,  but  thoy 
called  it  a  cow-path,  up  through  the  woods,  and  coming  to 
Dyke's  Branch,  they  found  it  bank-full  from  back-water; 
but  the  bald-faced  pony  and  Mary  plunged  in  and  scrambled 
np  the  opposite  bank,  and  Freck  "cooned"  it  over  on  the 
drift. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  117 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

'•Freck,  take  a  span  of  horses  and  drive  to  Saint  Joe 
and  get  a  load  of  supplies."  So  spoke  the  Father.  And 
the  next  morning  Freck  gave  Mary  a  hug  and  started  for 
provisions,  a  hundred  miles  away.  After  leaving  the  tim- 
ber on  the  Nod  a  way  River,  there  was  not  a  house  until  he 
came  to  Marysville,  the  county  seat  of  Xodaway  County, 
Missouri,  a  town  of  a  dozen  shacks.  The  tavern  (hotel) 
was  an  unpainted,  one-story  frame  of  four  rooms,  and  the 
tavern  barn  was  a  hay  shed.  Freck  stayed  over  night  here, 
and  one  of  his  horses  was  sick,  and  the  landlord  gave  him 
sweet  milk  and  sage,  tea  and  charged  Freck  two  dollars  and 
a  half.  He  was  a  kind  of  horse  doctor,  and  he  also  gave 
Freck  some  recipes  for  curing  sick  horses,  and  Freck  has 
them  to  this  day,  fifty-four  years;  but  he  never  used  any 
of  them.  On  his  return  trip  he  again  stayed  over  night  at 
Marysville,  but  his  horse  wasn't  sick. 

And  again  the  Father  said :  "Freck,  we  must  have 
seed-corn.  Return  into  Egypt."  And  Freck  gave  Mary  an- 
otheri  hug  and  started  to  Egypt,  and  again  he  stayed  over 
night  at  Marysville.  And  he  drove  away  down  onto  the 
Hundred  and  Two  until  he  found  corn,  and  he  paid  a  dol- 
lar a  bushel  for  it;  and  after  eight  days  and  a  drive  of  more 
than  two  hundred  miles,  he  arrived  at  home  with  corn  for 
seed  and  for  feed.  And  this  is  the  way  the  old  pioneers 
subdued  the  wilderness. 

A.  J.  and  Three-fingered  Jack  bought  a  steam  saw- 
mill at  Keokuk,  freighted  it  across  the  State  with  ox  teams, 
and  set  it  up  on  the,  West  Xodaway.  I  will  tell  you  more 
about  Three-fingered  Jack  farther  on.  And  they  offered 
Freck  a  dollar  and  four  bits  a  day  to  come  up  and  run  the 
saw  for  them,  and  a  shanty  to  live  in.  So  Freck  and  Mary 
moved  into  Montgomery  County,  within  half  a  mile  of 
Sciola  post-office;  but  Sciola  post-office  might  just  as  well 
have  been  fifty  miles  away,  for  Freck  wasn't  getting  letters 
from  Half-way  Prairie  any  more.  The  mill  was  moved 
over  onto  East  River,  T\rithin  half  a  mile  of  the  French  Col- 
ony, in  Adams  County;  and  after  a  while  the  mill  was  sold. 
Freck  traded  his  bald-faced  pony  and  saddle  and  a  cow  to 
an  Irishman  for  a  yoke  of  black  oxen,  and  Freck  called 
them  "Limerick"  and  "Cork."  And  Freck  and  Marv  moved 


118  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

back  to  the  Father's  mill,  and  Freck  again  took  his  stand 
at  the  saw. 

You  remember  that  Tom  Hend  married  Louisa,  Aunt 
Anna's  only  daughter.  Well,  Tom  laid  Louisa  by  the  side 
of  Mildred,  in  the  little  graveyard  back  of  the  meeting- 
house. And  Tom  had  fetched  their  two  little  girls  all  the 
way  out  for  Aunt  Anna  to  care  for,  and  Aunt  Anna  tender- 
ly cared  for  them  until  the  world  was  one  year  and  one  day 
older  than  it  was  when  their  mother  died.  And  then  Aunt 
Anna,  in  a  little  cabin  away  out  on  the  Tarkio  prairie, 
closed  her  eyes  and  her  toil-weary  hands  were  folded  over 
her  breast,  and  Aunt  Anna  was  moved  into  her  home  on 
the  western  frontier,,  where  she  will  repose  until  Jesus 
comes  and  unlocks  the  door. 

The  Father  and  Tom  bought  a  steam  saw-mill  and 
moved  it  to1  Walden's  Grove,  in  Missouri.  And  the  Father 
said :  "Freck,  you  and  Mary  will  have  to  move  to  Walden's 
Grove  and  take  charge  of  my  half  of  the  mill,  and  I  will 
pay  you  a  dollar  and  four  bits  a  day."  Squaw  Winter  came 
down  in*,  a  rage,  and  scattered  the  snow  and  the  sleet  in 
blinding  sheets  all  over  the  land.  And  the  cattle  stood 
with  bowed  heads,  in  dismal  groups,  in  the  shelter  of  the. 
trees;  and  the  trees,  in  angry  tones,  muttered  and  swayed 
and  shook  their  fists  in  the  face  of  Squaw  Winter ;  but  the 
wind  screamed  with  delight,  and  grasped  the  trees  and 
shook  them  until  the  icicles  rattled  from  their  heads,  and 
passed  right  on.  On  the  gloomy  morning  of  November  12, 
1857,  with  two  yoke  of  oxen,  the  earth  covered  with  a  foot 
of  snow,  and  a  riotous  cold  wind  driving)  the  sullen  storm- 
clouds  and  swirling  the  snow  in  sheets,  Freck  and  Mary 
pulled  out  for  Walden's  Grove.  As  they  drove  through  the 
tall  timber  toward  the  Lovelace  Ford  the  trees  swayed  and 
moaned,  and  in  a  dreary  voice  seemed  to  say:  "Ah,  Freck! 
Freck!  you  a  IT  going  to  fivr/e  Mary  to  death."  The  river 
was  full  of  snow  and  ice.  and  midside  to  the  oxen.  And 
all  day  long  the  oxen  trailed  their  feet  through  the  track- 
less snow:  Fnvk  trudged  along  by  their  side,  and  Mary 
sat  shivering  among  the  stuff.  The  dreary,  cold,  raw, 
melancholy  day  was  drawing  to  a  close,  with  no  human 
habitation  in  sight,  and  a  feeling  of  apprehension  was  steal- 
ing over  tbein  :  bill  a  horseman  rode  up.  nnd  Fnvk  made 
inquiry.  "Xo,  ihciv  i<  not  a  house  on  the  road  for  twenty- 
five  miles.  "Rut  two  miles  farther  on  you  will  como  to  a 


1\1:MIN1SCENCES    OF    PloNKKi;    LlFE  119 

field;  follow  around  the  fence  and  you  will  come  to  my 
house,,  and  you  shall  stay  over  night  with  me."  And  the 
nrxi  morning  not  a  cent  would  they  take. 

Freck  and  Mary  continued  on  their  journey  toward 
\Yalden's  Grove,  twenty-five  miles  and  not  a  house  between. 
And  toward  evening  Freck  bade  his  oxen :  "Turn  your  faces 
to  the  west."  The  wind  was  in  an  ugly  temper,  and  sent 
blocks  of  crust  sizzling  over  the  frozen  snow,  and  the  slowly 
revolving  wheels  chanted  a  dirge  in  harmony  with  the  dis- 
mal scene.  They  started  to  follow  a  narrow  "hogback" 
down  onto  the  Big  Tarkio,  and  the  hind  wheels  slipped  off 
the  narrow  ice-covered  ridge  and  slewed  around  and 
jammed  the  box  against  the  front  wheels  with  such  force 
that  the  tongue  wasi  broken  off  at  the  point  of  the;  hounds. 
Xow,  here  they  were,  away  out  on  the  wind-swept  prairie, 
the  sun  going  down,  ten  miles  from  a  house,  and  no  tongue 
to  guide  or  hold  back  going  down  the  hills.  Mary  looked 
at  the  broken  tongue  and  asked :  "Xow,  Robert,  what  will 
we  do?"  And  Freck  pulled  a  chain  around  the  axletree 
near  the  hubs,  hitched  the  draw-chain  into  the  center  link, 
rough-locked  both  hind  wheels,  and  drove  down  onto  the 
bank.  To  rough-lock,  a  chain  is  wound  around  the  rim  of 
the  wheel  so  that  the  wheel  will  ride  on  the  chain  and  plow 
into  the  ground.  The  channel  was  spanned  by  a  narrow 
corduroy  bridge  (round  logs)  and  the  banks  were  steep. 
Xow,  how  could  he  prevent  the  wagon  rushing  down  and 
over  the  oxen  and  plunging  into  the  creek?  Freck  drove 
his  leaders  over,  wound  the  chain  around  the  coupling-pole, 
and  brought  it  over  the  front  axletree  and  rough-locked 
the  front  wheels  also.  Then  Freck  patted  his  oxen  on  the 
cheek  and  said:  "Limerick  and  Cork,  you  are  probably 
going  to  your  death,  but  die  good  and  doing  your  duty." 

Freck  loved  a  good  and  true  ox,  and  he  still  has  a 
reminiscent  kindness  for  the  pioneer's  most  faithful  serv- 
ant. Without  the  ox  the  frontier  would  have  advanced  but 
slowly.  And  the  joys  and  the  sorrows,  the  pleasures  and  the 
privations,  the  hardships,  the  log-cabin  home,  and  the  oxen 
are  all  tangled  up  in  his  memory  and  make  the  warp  and 
the  woof  woven  into  the  web  of  his  life  on  the  western 
frontier., 

The  chains  gripped  the  ground,  and  the  crossing  was 
made  in  safety.  The  darkness  had  closed  down,  but  the 
moon  rose  and  sent  her  cold  light  over  the  frozen  snow; 


120 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


from  down  in  a  dark  hollow  came  the  lonely  cry  of  a  wolf, 
and  soon  answering  howls  were  heard  from  far  and  near; 
the  slowly  revolving  wheels  from  the  frozen  snow  squeezed 
out  a  doleful  dirge.  And  Mary  and  Freck  and  the  oxen 
crept  nearer  and  nearer  to  Walden's  Grove.  Long  after 
the  hour  of  midnight  they  halted  before  Mr.  Freeman's 
gate,  and  bedding  was  carried  in  and  spread  before  the 
fire,  and  soon  they  were  sleeping  the  dinnerless  and  sup- 
perless  sleep  of  the  weary  and  worn  pioneer. 


LIMERICK  AND  CORK 

Freck  traded  his  oxen  for  land,  and  soon  they  were 
keeping  house  in  a  one-room  cabin  in  Wai  den's  Grove,  Mis- 
souri. And  Press  and  Margaret  moved  into  the -one-room 
cabin  along  with  Freck  and  Mary  and  Mary's  mother,  and 
tlicv  were  a  happy  lot, 'and  are  still  living  in  the  valley  of 
siinshiiH'.  Tin-  Kathrr  sold  his  interest  in  the  mill,  and 
Press  and  Freck  got  together  a  lot  of  unbroken  steers  for 
the  purpose  of  breaking  prairie. 


RK MINIS* MACKS  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  121 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Bill  Daniels  moved  from  North  Carolina,  fetching 
along  bis  wife  and  two  babies,  in  a  one-horse  wagon,  drawn 
by  a  blind  man1.  And  Bill  squatted  mi  "Congress  land" 
and  built  a  cabin;  be  traded  the  blind  mare  for  a  yoke  of 
steers,  and  plowed  a  few  acres.  Bill  was  living  away  out 
on  the  frontier,  where  the  United  States  mail  never  came ; 
but  in  some  way  Bill  caught  the  "California  gold  fever," 
and  being  offored  hia  grub  for  driving  an  ox  team,  he  left 
his  wife  and  the  babies  and  the  steers,  and  started  off  on 
the  long  and  (then)  dangerous  journey  to  the  California 
"gold-diggings."  And  his  wife  spent  her  time  contending 
with  the  steers,  and  sitting  on  the  plow-beam  and  crying, 
and  caring  for  the  babies;  but  she  raised  corn  enough  to 
feed  the  steers,  herself,  and  the  babies.  Three  winters  had 
chased  three  summers  down  through  Walden's  Grove,  and 
no  word  from  Bill;  for  Bill  was  from  "Xo'th  Carolina" 
and  could  neither  read  nor  write;  and  there  was  no  United 
States  mail  anyway.  One  day  Bill's  wife  heard  a  noise, 
and  looking  up,  there  stood  Bill  in  the  door.  And  she 
cried:  "Why,  you  old  Bill!"  And  she  fell  on  his  neck 
and  wept.  And  now  Bill  owned  a  half-section,  and  was  a 
"Forty-niner,"  and  lived  in  a  hewed-log  house ;  but  he  was 
still  Bill  Daniels. 

April  6,  1858,  in  a  one-room  cabin  in  Walden's  Grove, 
there  was  born  to  Mary  and  Freck  a  lovely  little  blue-eyed 
baby  girl;  and  they  called  her  Eose. 

Press  and  Freck  moved  back  into  Page  County,  and 
Freck  traded  for  a  farm  in  Eoss  Grove,  in  Montgomery 
County,  and  the  next  spring  Freck  traded  the  farm  for  a 
mare,  a  cow,  and  a  mule.  Press  and  Freck  and  Mary  and 
Margaret  moved  down  into  the  valley,  and  into  the  same 
cabin;  for  they  were  still  living  in  the  valley  of  sunshine. 
The  Father  sold  and  moved  into  the  Territory  of  Nebraska. 
Press  and  Freck  traded  for  a  threshing-machine,  and  they 
threshed  the  grain  that  grew  on  the  land  where  now  stands 
the  city  of  Villisca. 

We  were  cut  off  from  the  world — no  railroads,  no  tele- 
graph, no  mail.  Everyone  did  that  which  was  right  in  his 
own  eyes,  and  didn't  go  far  wrong.  Even  the  old-time 
pioneer  colporteur,  who  tramped  from  settlement  to  settle- 


122 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


ROSE. 

ment  and  from  cabin  door  to  cabin  door  with  a  pack  of 
Bibles  and  tracts  on  his  back  (and  when  a  settler  was  un- 
able or  unwilling  to  buy,  he  would  give  him  a  Bible  and 
some  tracts,  and  tramp  on  along  the  path,  feeding  the  sheep 
and  the  lambs),  had  not  found  us.  Arid  the  old-time 
pioneer  Methodist  preacher,  with  his  Bible  and  hymn-book 
in  his  saddle-bags,  following  the  covered  wagons  into  the 
wilderness,  had  lost  the  trail  that  led  down  into  this  bend 
of  the  river.  But  this  fall  (1859)  several  new-comers 
moved  in  and  built  cabins. 

Preacher  Smith  lived  in  Bedford,  in  Taylor  County : 
and  he  started  to  Quincy,  in  Adams  County,  to  hold  meet- 
ings. Riding  along  the  trail  on  the  divide  between  the 
East  and  West  Nodaway,  and  coming  to  The  Forks,  he 
knew  not  which  path  to  take;  so.  in  conformity  with  the 


Rl.MlXISCENCES   OF    PlONEER    LlFE  123 

custom  of  the  time,  he  spit  on  a  chip  and  threw  it  up,  say- 
ing: "Dry,  turn  to  the  left."  And  dry  came  up,  and  he 
turned  to  the  left,  and  of  course  it  was  the  wrong  road; 
but  in  the  end  it  turned  out  all  right,  for  it  led  him  down 
to  our  settlement.  He  stayed  over  night  with  Father 
Chase,  a  good  old  Baptist,  and  Preacher  Smith  left  an  ap- 
pointment for  Sunday  two  weeks.  A  place  in  Father 
Chase's  grove  was  cleared,  and  logs  rolled  and  puncheons 
split  and  placed  across  for  seats,  and  a  pole  platform  built 
for  the  preacher's  stand.  Preacher  Smith  was  an  old-time 
pioneer  preacher,  and  he  was  on  the  ground  at  the  appoint- 
ed hour.  Preacher  Smith,  like  most  all  of  the  old-time 
pioneer  preachers,  was  a  good  talker  and  a  powerful  i»x- 
horter.  And  it  is  just  possible  that  Preacher  Smith  had 
been  a  sinner  or  a  backslider ;  at  any  rate,  he  seeemd  to  know 
just  what  the  sinner  and  the  backslider  needed.  And 
Preacher  Smith  would  tell  them  what  to  do,  and  to  do  it 
now.  And  when  he  had  told  them,  he  would  start  around, 
shaking  hands  with  everyone,  and  singing  (and  Preachf.r 
Smith  could  sing)  : 

"Oh,  who  will  come  and  go  with  me, 
Oh,  who  will  come  and  go  with  me, 
Oh,  who  will  come  and  go  with  me 

To  the  New  Jerusalem, 
Where  congregations  ne'er  break  up 

And  the  Sabbaths  never  end?" 

And  when  Preacher  Smith  turned  toward  the  mourners' 
bench  singing,  "Oh,  who  will  come  and  go  with  me?"  it 
just  seemed  like  somebody  had  to  go  with  him,  and  a  good 
many  went.  Preacher  Smith  would  stay  for  days,  and  the 
people  would  quit  their  work  and  come  for  miles  and  stay 
for  days. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  Frock's  experience  in  old- 
time  revival  meetings,  and  he  heard  and  saw  much  that  wa? 
new,  strange,  and  perplexing  to  him ;  such  a  thing  as 
shouting  or  falling  in  a  swoon  he  had  never  witnessed  be- 
fore. And  Freck  was  troubled  and  confused,  and  at  times 
indignant,  at  the  unnecessary  noise. 


124  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

I  never  knew  a  Seceder  nor  a  Presb3Tterian,  man,  wo- 
man, or  child  ten  years  old,  who  could  not  read ;  but  I  have, 
in  those  early  days,  known  many  Methodists  and  United 
Brethren  who  knew  not  one  letter  from  the  other.  And  I 
have  known  a  number  of  preachers  who  couldn't  read;  and 
they  could,  and  would,  argue  theology  to  beat  the  band; 
and  at  family  worship  they  would  stand  and  sing  a  familiar 
hymn.  And  nearly  all  those  old-time,  unlearned  men  and 
women  could  point  to  "the  hallowed  spot,  the  sacred  hour, 
where  Love  Divine  first  found  me,  and  the  burden  from 
my  heart  rolled  away.'7  I  never  knew  a  Seceder  nor  a 
Presbyterian  that  could  do  this;  'but  they  could  say,  and 
did  say :  "I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.  And  it  is  by 
grace  that  I  am,  saved,  and  it  is  the  gift  of  God."  For 
many  generations  the  training  and  the  environment  had 
been  radically  different.  The  Seceders  and  the  Presby- 
terians were  of  Scotch  ancestry,  and  the  unemotional  was 
a  characteristic  of  the  race,  and  they  did  not  approve  of  the 
sensational  in  matters  of  religion.  The  Seceders  and  the 
Presbyterians  w^ere  believers  in  infant  baptism,  and  al- 
way  had  their  babies  baptized,  and  the  parents  covenanted 
to  teach  these  children  to  read  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  to 
instruct  them  therein,  and  these  people  were  covenant- 
keepers.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  most  of  the  Methodist 
converts  were  from  the  South  and  Southwest,  where  the 
children  grew  up  on  the  range,  as  it  were,  and  their  rever- 
ence for  God  and  godly  things  was  not  very  pronounced, 
and  the  free  school  was  not  in  favor.  And  being  of  an 
emotional  nature,  when  the  convicting  power  got  hold  of 
them  (I  am  using  the  old-time  expressions),  tlioy  would 
come,  strongmen  and  women,  io  the  mourners'  brm-h  and 
cry  for  mercy;  and  when  they  found  the  blessing,  they 
would  shout:  "Hlorv  to  God!  I'm  saved!  T 'MI  saved!" 
And  there  would  be  nincli  rejoicing  over  a  sinner  that  had 
repented,  and  many  tears,  and  shaking  of  hands,  and 
hysterical  laughing  and  crying.  Freck  felt  in  his  heart 
that  there  was  much  unnecessary  noise  and  confusion;  and 
in  all  the  years  that  have  come  and  ^one  Knvk's  heart  has 
not  changed  in  regard  to  the  noise  and  the  confusion. 


RKMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFK  125 

"Enter  into  thy  closet,  and  when  thou  hast  shut  the  door," 
this  is  Freck's  hour  of  communion  with  the  Master. 

The  evening  service  always  began  at  "candle-lighting." 
There  were  no  lamps,  but  each  family  fetched  a  tallow  dip, 
and  blocks  with  auger-holes  were  stuck  in  the  wall,  and 
each  one  coming  in  would  light  his  candle  and  place  it  in 
the  block.  The  light  was  not  at  all  times  bright,  but  the 
hymns  were  sung  from  memory  and  the  preacher  had  his 
text  by  heart.  At  times  the  meeting  would  be  carried  on 
till  past  midnight,  and  the  candles  would  be  burned  out. 
Under  these  conditions,  how  many  would  go  to  meeting 
to-day  ? 

Many  of  these  converts,  having  no  depth  of  soil  in 
themselves,  when  the  sun  of  old  habits  and  old  associates 
rose  with  a  scorching  heat,  withered  away  and  brought  no 
fruit  to  perfection;  and  others,  trusting  in  the  grace  of 
God,  and  standing  firmly  on  their  manhood  and  woman- 
hood, brought  forth  forty,  sixty,  and  an  hundred  fold. 

There  was  a  camp-meeting  in  Snyder's  Grove.  Let 
me  see,  how  long  ago  was  it?  Oh,  I  don't  like  to  count 
the  years,  for  they  number  more  than  fifty;  but  it  seems  to 
me  but  yesterday.  Dear  Lord,  "our  latest  sun  is  sinking 
fast;  we  brush  the  dews  on  Jordan's  banks;  the  crossing 
must  be  near."  Did  you  ever  hear  an  old-time  Methodist 
camp-meeting  preacher  sing?  You  never  did?  Well,  I  am 
sorry.  I  would  like  to  tell  you  about  it,  but  I  can't.  It 
would  take  an  angel's  pen  to  tell  you.  In  the  dear  old  days 
of  the  long,  long  ago,  pole  platforms  were  builded  and  cov- 
ered with  dirt,  and  on  these  fires  were  kept  burning  to  light 
the  camp-ground;  and  the  fires  were  brightly  burning, 
lighting  the  middle,  and  hanging  a  curtain  of  black  dark- 
ness all  around.  And  there  was  murmuring  of  voices. 
The  preacher  climbed  onto  the  pole  platform,  and  there 
was  silence.  And  the  preacher  began  to  sing  about  the  day 
of  judgment,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  the  preacher. 
The  preacher  was  an  old  man,  with  a  bushy  white  head, 
and  on  the  frontier  of  the  Southwest  and  the  West  he  had 
been  fighting  the  Devil  for  fifty  vears.  And  he  was  all  bat- 
tered and  dinged,  for  the  Devil  had  handled  him  mighty 
roughly  at  times ;  but  he  was  still  putting  up  a  good  fight 
and  hitting  the  Devil  in  the  face. 

You  know  that  they  used  to  hang,  and  shoot,  and  tar 
and  feather  Methodist  preachers  in  the  Southwest.  Oh, 


126  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

yes;  they  surely  did.  They  shot  Father  Holland  to  death, 
seventy  years  old;  and  they  tarred  and  feathered  Preacher 
Sellers;  and  they  hanged  Presiding  Elder  Bewley.  The 
old-time  Methodist  preacher  would  tell  bad  people  that  they 
were  going  along  on  the  broad  road  straight  to  Hell,  and 
that  they  had  better  turn  back  before  they  went  around  the 
next  bend;  and  then  he  would  tell  them  of  some  of  the 
wicked  things  they  were  doing.  And  they  would  be  en- 
raged, and  howl,  "Abolitionist !  Abolitionist S"  which,  be- 
ing interpreted,  was  "Crucify  him  !  Crucify  him  I"  And 
the  "pore  white  trash,"  who  couldn't  have  bought  a  "nig- 
ger" baby  had  it  been  born  blind,  and  to  whom  all  whiskey 
tasted  alike,  were  ever  ready  to  handle  the  rope  and  tote 
the  tar-bucket.  It  was  Methodist  preachers  they  shot,  tar- 
red and  feathered,  and  hanged. 

While  Paul  held  the  garments  of  those  that  stoned 
Stephen,  Paul  was  all  right;  but  when  Paul  preached 
"Christ,  and  Him  crucified,  Whom  ye  crucified,"  Paul's 
blood  was  required.  And  the  rabble  will  furnish  the  blood,, 
if  the  price  is  put  up.  And  Joseph  took  Christ  down  from 
the  cross,  and  wrapped  Him  in  fine  linen,  and  buried  Him 
in  a  rock-hewn  tomb.  And  two  Negro  slaves  cut  Christ's 
faithful  servant,  Presiding  Elder  Bewley,  down  from  the 
limb,  and  without  shroud  or  coffin,  covered  him  up  in  a 
hole  in  the  ground. 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

This  fall  Brother  Van  moved  in  from  Illinois.  Broth- 
er Van  was  a  local  Methodist  preacher,  and  a  friendship 
:>ei  \\-eeii  Brother  Yan  and  Freck  and  Sister  Van  and  Mary 
i -ml u red  for  a  lifetime.  And  when  the  storms  of  winter 
prevented  Preacher  Smith  from  following  the  trails  ai-ross 
the  prairies,  Brother  Van  took  up  the  work.  In  those  days 
the  preachers  labored  with  their  hand-,  just  like  we  did. 
It  never  entered  the  heart  of  man  to  pav  the  preaeher  a 
salarv.  If  the  preaeher,  while  walking  hehveen  the  plow- 
handles,  thought  of  something  that  he  would  like  to  say 
on  Sunday,  \ve  all  turned  out  and  went  and  heard  him. 
Wasn't  that  enough?  Brother  Van's  and  Brother  Smith's 
manner  of  preaching  was  all  ri^'lit  at  the  time  and  on  the 
frontier,  but  the  people  of  to-day  would  not  sit  on  the 
backless  benches  and  endure  the  infliction  of  an  hour-long 


l\i: MINIM  >r    1'ioNi-r.K   LIFI:  127 

sermon.  No.  no:  a  half-hour  is  enough  to  fritter  away  in 
service  of  (;<><!.  And  then  for  a  spin  on  (he  wheel, 
brother  V:in  and  his  yoke-fellows  plowed  and  planted  the 
fields,  and  buttled  with  unruly  oxen,  and  made  terms  with 
halky  horses,  and  eonlended  witli  the  Hevil  six  days  in  the 
week,  and  preached  twice  on  Sunday. 

IVter  and  Freck  were  friends,  and  they  sat  side  by 
side  on  the  puncheon  bench  at  meeting.  Sister  Miriam, 
Peter's  wife,  was  reared  a  Quaker,  Imt  she  was  converted  in 
her  girlhood  and  joined  the  Methodists;  nevertheless,  the 
meek  and  quiet  Quaker  sweetness  clung  to  her.  But  at 
times  Sister  Miriam  would  get  real  happy  in  meeting,  and 
shout;  and  at  times  while  praying  her  voice  could  not  be 
heard,  but  her  lips  would  move.  Sister  Miriam  helped  many 
io  turn  to  the  Lord,  but  she  wisely  refrained  from  saying 
anything  to  Peter  and  Freck.  One  of  Sister  Miriam's  fa- 
vorite hymns  was : 

"Come,  ye  sinners,  poor  and  needy, 

Weak  and  wounded,  sick  and  sore; 
Jesus  ready  stands  to  save  you, 
Full  of  pity,  love,  and  power. 

"Come,  ye  weary,  heavy-laden, 

Bruised  and  mangled  by  the  fall; 
If  you  tarry  till  you  're  better, 
You  will  never  come  at  all.'' 

And  another  was: 

"Jesus  sought  me  when  a  stranger, 

Wandering  from  the  fold  of  God; 
He,  to  rescue  me  from  danger. 
Interposed  His  precious  blood." 

And  Sister  Miriam,  forgetful  of  self,  would  sing  in  such 
a  tender  and  pathetic  way  that  the  tears  would  unbidden 
start. 

One  night  when  the  invitation  was  given  to  come  to 
the  mourners'  bench,  and  the  congregation  arose  and  be- 
gan singing,  "I  will  arise  and  go  to  Jesus,  He  will  em- 
brace me  in  His  arms,"  Peter  started  forward ;  and  Freck 
took  one  step  to  follow,  but  he  heard  a  voice  in  his  heart, 


128  KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

as  plainly  as  he  ever  heard  a  voice  in  his  ears,  saying: 
"Stop;  you  are  young;  there  is  no  need  to  hurry."  And 
Freck  stopped,  believing  that  he  was  obeying  the  voice  of 
God.  And  Peter  long  time  wept  and  prayed,  and  many 
prayed  for  him.  And  Peter  arose  and  cried:  "Glory  to 
God!  I'm  saved!  I'm  saved!"  And  Sister  Miriam 
threw  her  arms  around  Peter's  neck  and  shouted :  "Glory 
to  God!  my  prayers  are  answered."  And  there  was  much 
joy  and  praising  God. 

But  these  scenes  will  never  again  be  enacted  in  this 
world;  no,  never.  The  people  have  outgrown  all  this.  It 
is  quite  enough  now  to  raise  the  right  hand.  And  the 
mourners'  bench  has  been  carried  out  into  the  wood-shed. 
But  there  is  a  day  coming  when  there  will  be  weeping  and 
mourning;  but  there  will  be  no  mourners'  bench,  nor 
mercy-seat.  Probation  will  be  ended,  and  the  judgment 
will  be  set,  and  the  books  shall  be  opened. 

In  seeing  and  hearing  these  things  Freck  was  brought 
under  conviction;  and  his  soul  was  sick  and  perplexed, 
and  a  millstone  was  upon  his  heart.  And  the  Devil  turned 
on  him  and  whispered  over  and  over  again:  "It's  too 
late.  It's  too  late.  You  should  have  gone  forward  when 
Peter  did."  Of  all  men,  Freck  was  the  most  miserable, 
but  he  kept  it  all  locked  in  his  own  heart.  He  quit  going 
to  meeting,  and  he  diligently  avoided  meeting  Brother 
Van  or  Peter  or  Sister  Miriam.  But  one  Sunday  morning 
Freck  walked  up  to  the  Dyke  School-house,  two  and  a  half 
miles  away,  and  timed  himself  to  arrive  while  thev  were 
singing  the  first  hymn.  And  when  the  benediction  was 
pronounced,  he  slipped  out  of  the  door  and  started  for 
home,  not  waiting  for  the  customary  greeting  and  hand- 
shaking; for  Freck  had  a  dread  of  mooting  Brother  Van 
and  Peter  and  Sister  Miriam,  as  he  felt  in  his  heart  that 
Sister  Miriam  had  not  ceased  praying  when  Peter  was  con- 
verted, but  was  patiently  waiting  for  her  prayers  to  be 
answered.  There  was  a  mirv  place  on  the  bottom  road, 
ami  whon  the  ground  was  not  frozen,  teams  had  to  elbow 
around  over  the  hill ;  but  Frock  pushed  straight  ahead  into 
the  tall  grass,  believing  HIP  frost  had  gone  out.  and  feel- 
ing safe,  ho  slackened  his  pace. 

For  a  long  time  Freck  had  been  trving  to  solve  this 
problem.  He  had  grown  to  manhood  in  a  godlv  home, 
where  grace  was  said  at  ovorv  meal  and  prayers  were  of- 


KEMINISCENOES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  129 

1'ered  morning  and  evening;  and  lie  had  not  taken  the 
name  of  God  in  vain,  neither  had  he  committed  a  lewd 
nor  an  immoral  act,  but  had  lived  a  clean  and  (as  he 
thought)  pious  life.  Few  nights  of  his  life  had  he  closed 
Ins  eyes  until  ho  had  said  the  little  prayer  the  Mother  had 
taught  him  while  yet  a  baby.  Now,,  why  was  he  burdened 
with  a  feeling  of  condemnation,  as  if  he  had  been  a  great 
sinner?  Frock  now  understands  that  it  was  because  of  a 
false  conception  of  God;  the  same  feeling  that  caused 
Adam  to  hide  among  the  bushes  in  the  Garden  of  Eden, 
and  cry:  "I  was  afraid,  and  I  hid  myself."  And  Freck 
was  afraid;  for  the  Devil  kept  fight  on  saying:  "Freck, 
God  is  seeking  for  you  to  take  vengeance  on  you."  And 
Freck,  like  Adam,  tried  to  hide  himself.  But  God  followed 
along  the  paths  of  Eden,  seeking  and  calling:  "'Adam, 
where  art  thou  ?"  And  God  was  glad  when  He  found 
Adam;  for  God  and  the  angels  are  always  glad  when  a 
poor  sinner  is  found,  for  God  is  trying  to  reconcile  the 
world  to  Himself.  For  God  so  loved  the  world  th^t  He 
spared  not  His  only  begotten  Son,  but  gave  Him  up  to  die ; 
that  whosoever  belie veth  on  Him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  eternal  life.  By  persuading  and  by  offering  rewards, 
God  is  doing  all  that  He  can  to  bring  men  and  wrnv-n  into 
oneness  with  Himself.  And  Adam,  when  fcund,  was 
naked;  and  with  His  own  tender  hands  God  made  coats  of 
skins  and  clothed  them.  And  Freck,  when  found,  was 
naked;  and  God  in  love  and  mercy  clothed  him  with  a  robe 
of  Christ's  righteousness.  Dear  reader,  is  God  folloving 
after  and  calling  };ou?  Don't  be  afraid,  no,  no.  don't  be 
afraid.  God  is  not  seeking  you  to  take  vengeance  on  you, 
but  that  He  may  clotht  you  with  a  garment  of  Christ's 
righteousness.  Christ  prepared  the  robe  when  Tie  tasted 
death  for  every  man  and  died  for  our  sins,  and  rc.-e  again 
for  our  justification. 

And  suddenly  the  rattle  of  a  wagon  smote  on  Freck's 
ears,  and  looking  around,  there  was  Brother  Van  and  Sis- 
ter Van  close  upon  him.  And  the  first  impulse  was  to  run 
like  a  frightened  deer;  but  Brother  Van  called,  ?nd  Freck 
sat  down  on  the  board  by  his  side.  And  when  ^hey  drove 
in  front  of  the  cabin,  Brother  and  Sister  Van  insisted  that 
he  stay  for  dinner;  and  although  it  was  less  than  half  a 
mile  to  his  own  home,  Freck  stayed.  And  he  frit  in  his 
heart  that  it  was  a  ruse  to  get  a  chance  to  tdk  religion  to 


130  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

him.  And  after  dinner  Brother  Van  and  Freck  sat  on  the 
rail  fence  in  front  of  the  door  and  talked;  Brother  Van 
trying  to  lead  up  to  religious  lines,  and  Freck  warding  him 
off.  At  last  Brother  Van  laid  his  hand  on  Freck' s  shoul- 
der, saying:  "Brother  Robert,  I  must  talk  to  you,  but  I 
don't  know  how  to  begin.  Xo  man  can  tell  another  how 
to  get  religion;  but  I  have  gone  over  the  same  road  that 
you  are  going  over,  and  I  have  met  the  same  things  that 
you  are  meeting.  The,  Devil  is  telling  you,  as  he  told  me, 
that  it  is  too  late."  And  he  brought  his  hand  down  on 
Freck' s  shoulder,  saying:  "Brother  Robert,  the  Devil  is  a 
liar;  don't  believe  him;  it  is  not  too  late.  Xever  give  up 
until  you  get  the  blessing."  And  with  the  tears  running 
down  his  weather-tanned  cheeks,  Brother  Van,  like  Paul 
before  Felix,  reasoned  of  righteousness  and  judgment. 
And  when  Freck  started  for  home,  the  fean  of  meeting 
Brother  Van  was  gone,  because  Brother  Van  had  been  over 
the  road  and  knew  all  about  it. 

It  was  a  little  log  barn,  with  rails  leaned  on  three 
sides,  and1  straw  piled,  to  make  a  shed  for  the  calves  and 
the  sheep;  and  it  was  always  dark  in  there.  And  morning 
after  morning,  after1  feeding  the  stock,  Freck  would  go 
back  into  the  darkest  corner  and  kneel  down  and  try  to 
pray;  but  the  heavens  were  brass,  and  the  words  refused  to 
be  spoken,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no  ear  to  hear,  and  his 
soul  reached  out  and  grasped  an  empty  void.  But  one 
morning  while  he  was  kneeling  in  this  dark  shed  the  great 
millstone  which  had  lain  on  his  heart  so  long  slipped  away, 
and  his  heart  felt  light  and  glad.  Freck  was  startled,  and 
coming  out,  he  faced  the  east.  The  rim  of  the  rising  -un 
was  just  showing  above  the  distant  river  hills,  and  oh,  such 
a  glorious  sunrise!  such  a  bright  and  glowing  sky!  It  was 
a  new  heaven  and  ;i  new  earth  ihal  lie  saw.  All  things 
seemed  to  be  made  new.  And  his  soul  shouted:  "(Jlorv 
to  God!"  But  his  Seceder  i  raining  asserted  itself,  and  hi> 
voice  was  silent.  Aixl  Kreck  rested  his  arm-  on  the  top 
bar  and  gazed  in  wonder,  and  the  fountain  of  tears,  so  long 
dry,  was  broken  up  and  overflowed.  And  perfect  peace 
filled  his  soul.  That  litlle  lop;  harn.  and  the  little  lo«v  cab- 
in near  by,  the  smoke  in  the  earlv  morning  curling  from 
tin-  stick  chimney,  that  rude  and  humble  home  on  the  west- 
ern frontier,  and  ilie  idorioiis  -unrise.  "where  the  burden 
from  my  heart  rolled  away."  were  indelibly  pictured  on 


REMINISCENCES  «>F  I'IONKKK  Ln-'i-:  131 

Freck's  heart.  And  the  tears  of  sorrow  for  more  than  fifty 
years  have  flowed  over  iliis  picture;  but  it  fadeth  not,  hut 
grows  blighter  and  more  sacred  as  the  years  go  by.  And 
may  it  be  God's  pleasure  to  permit  me  to  carry  this  picture 
with  me  across  the  Jordan  of  the  resurrection  and*through 
the  years  of  eternit}'. 

No  doulit  to  the  present  generation  all  this  will  appear 
as  did  the  handwriting  on  the  wall  to  Nebuchadnezzar. 
Bur  there  may  be  a  few  old-time  Methodists  and  United 
Brethren  left,  to  whom  these  lines  will  recall  the  long  ago, 
the  log  school-house,  the  tears  and  the  cries1  for  mercy,  the 
shouts  of  victory,  and  the  songs  of  praise.  And  at  the 
remembrance  the  tears  will  trickle  down  the  old  furrowed 
cheeks,  and  in  a  reminiscent  mood  they  will  think  of  the 
days  that  are  gone  and  the  friends  that  are  gone,  and  will 
hear  a  voice  saying:  "I  will  never  leave  you,  nor  forsake 
you." 

And  Peter  and  Freck  were  baptized  in  infancy,  br.i 
they  were  not  satisfied;  so  a  letter  was  written,  and  a 
preacher  came  on  horseback  across  the  prairies,  through  the 
woods,  fording  the  streams,  for  fifty  miles,  to  bury  Peter 
and  Freck  in  the  Nodaway  River,  because  Brother  Van  had 
not  been  ordained.  And  Peter  has  been  dead  for  forty 
vears.  Shall  we,  Peter  and  Freck,  know  each  other  there? 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Press  and  Margaret  and  Freck  and  Mary  were  still  liv- 
ing in  the  valley  of  sunshine  and  in  the  same  cabin.  On 
the  fourth  day  of  May,  1860,  Freck  and  Brother  Van*  were 
planting  corn;  and  Freck  laid  down  his  hoe  and  left  the 
field.  And  there  was  (born  to  Mary  and  Freck  a;  little  baby 
girl :  and  Sister  Van  said :  "She  is  a  lovely  baby ;  call  her 
for  me."  Sq  they  called  her  Alice.  And  here  is 'the  baby, 
nineteen  year?  thereafter. 

And  that  kind  Christian  woman,  Sister  Van,  hag  been 
sleeping  the  sleep  of  death  for  twenty-five  years,  and  Broth- 
er Van  for  twenty  years. 

And  Press  and  Margaret  piled  their  stuff  into  the 
wagon  and  pulled  out  for  Nebraska  Territory,  leaving  a 
lonely  void  in  the  cabin  of  Freck  and  Mary.  And  about 
the  tenth  of  August,  1860,  Freck  sold  out,  and  going  be- 


132 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


ALICE. 

fore  with  two  yoke  pf  oxen,  and  Mary  following  with  a 
span  of  horses,  they  pulled  out  for  Nebraska  Territory. 
They  crossed  the  river  at  Reub's  Ford,  and  drove  past  the 
unfinished  cabin  where  they  were  yoked;  but  the  preacher 
was  gone,  and  tin-  grass  was  growing  fall  in  tin*  lone,  for- 
saken door  of  the  pioneer  preacher's  cabin  on  the  western 
frontier.  When  tliev  readied  the  divide,  {hoy  turned  north 
and  drove  all  day  along  the  same  trackless  prairie  over 
which  the  Father's  train  passed  to  the  South  four  years 
before.  At  night  they  pulled  down  onto  the  Tarkio  for 
water,  and  camped  opposite  Dinwiddy's  Grove.  And  Freck 
pointed  out  to  Marv  the  cabin,  still  deserted  and  lonely, 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  133 

and  the  tree  irnder  which  the  girl  wii'e  (who  had  forsaken 
her  father  and  her  mother  and  had  come  with  her  husband 
to  build  for  themselves  a  home  on  the  western  frontier) 
was  sleeping,  far  from  human  habitation,  with  only  the 
wind  and  the  wolves  to  sing  her  requiem. 

The  next  morning  they  turned  to  the  west,  across  the 
trackless;  prairie,  a  clump  of  timber  on  the  Walnut  Creek 
hills  beyond  the  Nishnabotna  River  for  a  beacon.  Near 
where  the  city  of  Shenandoah  now  stands,  one  of  Freck's 
oxen  fell  dead  from  sunstroke;  and  leading  the  remaining 
ox,  they  made  haste  to  reach  water.  And  they  went  into 
camp  on  the  Nishnabotna  River.  Next  morning  Freck  rode 
along  the  river  seeking  a  ford.  He  drove  his  oxen  into  tho 
river,  and  Mary  followed,  and  the  horses  became  restive  and 
shied  to  pass  the  oxen,  and  the  off  horse  suddenly  dropped 
out  of  sight  except  his  head ;  and  the  water  flowed  into  the 
wagon,  and  Mary  had  the  babies,  and  the  wagon  was  ready 
to  turn  bottom  side  up;  but  the  other  horse  lunged  and 
dragged  his  mate  and  the  wagon  from  the  deep  water. 
When  they  reached  the  shore,  there  were  a  couple  of  white 
faces;  and  Mary  cried,  but  the  babies  kicked  and  cooed. 
Starting  across  the  hills  on  Walnut  Creek,  the  way  was 
cut  off  by  a  deep  gulch;  but  there  was  no  turning  back, 
so  the  wagons  were  taken  apart  and  let  down,  and  with 
long  chains  dragged  up  the  opposite  bank. 

Now,  don't  think  for  a  moment  that  Mary  stood  idly 
by.  Mary  was  not  large:  height,  five  feet  seven  inches; 
usual  weight,  one  hundred  and  fifteen  pounds.  But  Mary 
was  a  God-given  helpmeet.  A  quilt  was  spread  on  the  grass 
and  the  babies  placed  thereon;  and  when  again  ready  to  go 
forward,  the  blood  was  ready  to  burst  from  Mary's  face, 
the  babies  were  sun-blistered,  and  Freck  was  badly  wilted, 
and  the  sun  was  looking  back  over  his  shoulder.  That 
night  they  camped  under  a  great  spreading  elm  on  the 
bank  of  the  West  Nishnabotnai  River.  And  they  had  not 
passed  a  house  nor  seen  a  person  since  leaving  their  home, 
three  days  and  three  nights  before.  Do  you  think  that 
Mary  and  Freck  were  sad  and  lonely  on  this  trip,  especially 
after  losing  their  ox?  They  were  not;  they  were  full  of 
gladness;  for  they  had  each  other  and  the  babies,  and  this 
to  them  was  about  all  there  was  worth  having.  And  this 
is  only  one  incident  of  the  way  the  old  pioneers  got  to  the 
front  and  trespassed  upon  and  subdued  the  wilderness. 


134  EEMINISCEXCES  OF  PIOM^K  LIFE 

In  time  they  reached  the  Missouri  Kiver  and  \vere  ferried 
across.  And  again  IVcss  and  Margaret  and  Freck  and 
Mary  moved  into  the  same  cabin;  for  they  were  still  living 
in  the  valley  of  sunshine.  Freck  traded  all  of  his  worldy 
possessions  for  a  one-third  interest  in  a  steam  grist-mill. 

This  fall  (18(50)  the  waves  on  the  political  lake  were 
running  high  and  sloshing  against  the  cabins  on  the  very 
edge  of  the  western  frontier.  Men  and  women  would  ride 
and  drive  twenty-five  miles  to  hear  the  fiery  speeches  and 
joint  debates  on  "Slavery  and  Anti-slavery/'  "Free  Soil 
and  Slave  Territory."  There  was  an  untamable  Democrat, 
-I.  Sterling  Morton,  of  Nebraska  City,  around  whom  the 
Democratic?  hosts  on  the  frontier  loved  to  rally;  for  J. 
Sterling  Morton  was  hard  to  down.  But  the  Eepublican 
shepherd  lad,  who  was  still  wearing  knee  pants,  had  some 
giant  fire-crackers,  and  few  slept  in  meeting. 

There  was  a  camp-meeting  in  Carroll's  Grove,  and  the 
great  pioneer  Methodist  preacher,  Chivington,  who  became 
a  soldier,  a  colonel,  and  an  Indian  fighter,  was  the  principal 
preacher,  and  he  preached  as  he  afterwards  fought,  with 
all  his  might. 

I  will  tell  you  more  about  Three-fingered  Jack.  In 
the  early  days  on  the  western  frontier  there  was  a  hand  of 
rough  whiskey-drinkers  who  called  themselves  "Squatters' 
Rights";  they  claimed  choice  pieces  of  land  and  extorted 
money  from  actual  settlers.  An  elderly  man  and  his  son 
settled  and'  built  a  cabin:  and  a  delegation  of  Squatters 
rode  around  and  said:  "Pay  us  money  or  get  off  the  land/7 
And  the  old  gentleman  replied:  "T  will  neither  pay  you 
money  nor  get  off  the  land."  And  they  swore  a  great  oath 
that  he  would  get  off  the  land.  The  Squatters  met  and 
drank  whiskev  and  drew  lots,  and  Three-fingered  Jack, 
Bob.  Conn,  and  another  thai  1  never  knew  drew  the  win- 
ning cards.  They  rode  away,  and  when  near  the  cabin, 
tliev  tied  iheir  horses  in  the  brush  and  sneaked  up  to  the 
cabin  door,  and  one  knocked.  A  voice  demanded:  "Who's 
there?"  "I'm  a  >l  ranger.  I'm  lost  in  the  woods.  I've 
had  nothing  to  rat  since  morning.  Can't  yon  give  mo 
something  to  cut?"  "Ye-,  of  course  we  will."  And  iho 
door  wa<  unbarred,  and  the  four  rushed  in  and  overpowered 
the  old  man  and  bis  son.  The  Squatters  bound  them  and 
led  them  to  the  bank  of  the  Missouri  "River,  where  thev  had 
a  skiff  hid  in  the  willows.  The  old  man  begged  them  to 


OF     I'loNKKU    LitfK  135 

let  the  >un  ri'turn  to  his  mother,  hut  with  profanity  they 
•  i.  They  carried  them  hound  into  the  skiff,  and 
rowed  nut  into  the  middle  of  the  river  and  cast  them  over- 
hoard,  and  the  water.-  closed  over  Father  and  son  forever. 
And  when  in  their  cups,  they  hoasted.  Low  unit  tennis 
ran  along  the  border,  and  the  hand  became  alarmed  and 
lied.  Freck  worked  For  Three-lingered  Jack  and  A.  J., 
and  shortly  after  Jack  sold  to  A.  J.,  he  twisted  a  hoy's  nose 
until  the  blood  spurted,  because*  he  didn't  yoke  the  oxen  to 
his  liking;  and  the  boy  hit  Three-fingered  Jaek  on  the 
head  with  an  ox-how  and  killed  him.  And  the  neighbors 
said :  "That  boy  did  a  mighty  good  job." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

In  time  Bob  and  Conn  returned,  and  Bob  married  a 
quiet,  nice-appearing,  red-headed  woman;  and  Bob  and  his 
wife  attended  the  camp-meeting  in  Carroll's  Grove.  Bob 
and  Freck  lived  neighbors.  Bob  was  tall  and  slim,  and  his 
hair  was  very  black,  and  he  had  a  stiff  neck  and  carried  his 
head  on  one  side.  One  morning  there  was  an  experience- 
meeting  or  "love-feast,"  as  it  was  called  in  the  long  ago, 
and  Bob  arose,  and  those  near  by  drew  in  their  breath. 
But  they  breathed  easily  again  when  Bob  said:  "No  doubt 
you  are  surprised  to  see  me  here  this  morning  for  you  all 
know  me.  And  you  know  that  when  there  was  whiskey  to 
be  drank,  Bob  didn't  shirk;  and  when  there  was  a  rough- 
and-tumble  fight,  Bob  was  never  seen  with  his  back  toward 
the  place  where  was  the  most  noise.  And  you  know  that 
Bob  and  the  Devil  have  been  mighty  good  friends,  and  the 
Devil  showed  his  confidence  in  me  by  making  me  his  bell- 
wether; and  I  have  rattled  his  bell  in  PI atts mouth,  and  in 
Rock  Bluff,  and  in  Nebraska  City,  and  all  along  the  border. 
But  I  took  off  the  Devil's  bell  last  night  and  I  threw  it 
away,  and,  God  helping-  me,  I  am  going  to  fight,  the  Devil 
while  I  live."  And  Bob  lived  a  quiet  life  and  made  good 
for  several  years. 

A  school-house  was  built  and  a  teacher  hired,  and  the 
teacher  boarded  with  Bob.  One  morning  Bob  drove  the 
teacher  off  the  place,  and  said :  "If  you  ever  cross  my 
threshold  again,  I  will  kill  you."  A  few  days  thereafter 
Bob  drove  to  PI  attain  outh,  and  while  he  was  tying  his 


136  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

horses  to  the  rack,  the  teacher  rode  up,  and  although  there 
was  lots  of  room,  the  teacher  jammed  his  horse  against 
Bob.  Bob  snatched  his  buggy  whip  and  belabored  the  teach- 
er over  the  head  and  shoulders.  The  teacher  retreated  a 
few  steps,  drew  a  pistol,  and  sent  a  oullet  crashing  into 
Bob's  breast.  The  teacher  was  acquitted — he  acted  in  self- 
defense;  but  everybody  knew  that  it  was  his  purpose  to  kill 
Bob.  The  teacher  left  the  country,  and  I  know  not  what 
became  of  Bob's  wife;  neither  do  I  know  whether  Bob  had 
cause,  or  was  insanely  jealous  without  cause.  For  many 
good  men  and  women  are  at  times  insanely  jealous  without 
cause,  and  fill  their  cup  and  the  cups  of  others  with  the 
dregs  of  the  bitter  wine  distilled  by  the  Devil  in  the  dis- 
mal chambers  of  Hell. 

Do  you  believe  in  the  old  doctrine  of  "retributive 
justice"?  That  if  I  commit  a  crime  and  escape  punish- 
ment, justice  will  be  meted  out  to  my  children?  Three- 
fingered  Jack  and  Bob  met  violent  deaths,  but  Conn  did 
not.  And  after  a  good  many  years  had  come  and  gone, 
Reub's  boy  Zeke  married  Evangeline,  Conn's  oldest  girl. 
And  Reub,  Zeke's  father,  liked  the  way  Zeke  did  things; 
for  Zeke,  like  his  father,  was  a  square-dealer  and  a  money- 
maker; and  Eeub  helped  Zeke  make  money.  Esub  had  nine 
other  sons,  and  as  fast  as  they  got  big  enough  to  push  a 
chair,  Eeub  helped  them  to  make  money.  Zeke  had  got- 
ten together  a  lot  of  cattle,  sheep,  and  horses,  and  two 
babies;  and  Zeke  worked  almost  day  and  night  with  his 
cattle  and  horses.  Zeke  liked  his  babies  real  well,  but  they 
were  asleep  when  he  came  in  at  night  and  asleep  when  he 
went  out  in  the  morning,  and  he  didn't  see  them  much; 
and  Zeke  thought  a  whole  lot  of  Evangeline,  but  he  didn't 
have  much  time  to  tell  her  about  it.  Say,  young  husband, 
you,  had  better  take  time  to  tell  her  about  it. 

A  young  doctor  located  in  the  settlement,  and  for  a 
compensation  Zeke  gave  him  a  home.  And  the  Doctor 
drove  a  fast  horse  to  a  new  buggy,  and  didn't  wear  home- 
spun :  but  IIP  wore  a  nice  smile.  And  IIP  t <•»>]•:  Kvan^eline 
along  someL:iies  for  a  drive;  and  IIP  lia<l  m<>re  time  than 
Zeke,  and  talked  more.  And  the  neighbors  talked  some, 
but  Zeke  was  busy,  with  his  cattle  ;md  didn't  hear  it.  One 
night  Zekp  was  taken  sick,  and  the  Doctor  tried  hard  to 
save  his  life — no  doctor  could  havp  done  more;  but  Zeke 
died  before  morning.  And  a  few  months  thereafter  the 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  137 

Doctor  and  Evangeline  were  married.  The  Doctor  took 
over  the  management  ofl  the  farm,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
lowing  of  the  cattle,  the  neighing  of  the  horses,  and  the 
bleating  of  the  sheep,  which  Zeke  loved  so  well,  were  not 
heard  in  the  yards  any  more.  And  one  night  Evangeline 
foil  sick,  and  l>cl'mv  the  palo  light  of  the  stars  had  faded 
from  before  the  bright  morning  light  of  the  sun  Evangel- 
ine was  dead.  And  the  Doctor,  with  a  good  many  thous- 
and dollars,  fled  to  Texas  and  was  heard  of  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XXXI V. 

In  the  spring  of  1861  Freciv  traded  his  grist-mill  for 
a  half-section  of  land  in  Nebraska,  and  then  he  traded  half 
the  land  for  a  half  interest  in  a  steam  saw-mill,  located  in 
the  big  cotton  wood  timber  which  at  that  time  extended 
along  the  Missouri  River  for  a  hundred  miles  on  the  Iowa 
side;  and  Freck  sold  half  of  his  interest  in  the  saw-mill  to 
Press.  And  Press  and  Margaret  and  Freck  and  Mary  step- 
ped aboard  the  ferry  and  were  landed  on  the  Iowa  side. 
Their  cabins  were  right  close  together.  And  Will  came 
along  and  made  his  home  with  Mary  and  Freck;  and  the 
nearest  neighbor  was  two  miles  away.  They  were  a  free 
and  happy  lot,  and  are  still  living  in  the  valley  of  sunshine. 
Press  and  Freck  rented  the  other  half  of  the  mill,  and  Press 
and  Will  chopped  the  logs,  and  the  oxen  and  Freck  hauled 
them  to  the  mill.  Then  they  would  fire  up  and  saw  the 
logs  and  give  one-fourth  of  the  lumber  to  R.  B.  Townsend, 
who  lived  in  Glenwood,  the  owner  of  the  timber.  The  set- 
tler? came  for  fifty  miles  and  more,  with  flour  and  meat, 
cow?,  steers,  horses,  and  colts,  to  trade  for  lumber.  And 
in  time  Freck  knew  almost  every  man  living  in  Mills  Coun- 
ty, and  many  elsewhere;  for  people  lived  only  in  and  along 
the  timber. 

In  the  fall  an  oldish  man  and  wife  and  their  two  sons 
and  two  sons-in-law,  with  a  lot  of  oxen,  on  their  way  to 
Nebraska,  pulled  into  the  timber  to  winter.  Thev  went  to 
work  in  the  woods,  and  on  the  second  day  the  sons-in-law 
lodged  a  tree,  and  they  began  chopping,  and  the  lodged  tree 
broke  loose  and  fell,  crushing  one  to  death  ;  and  they  buried 
him  in  the  woods.  The  girl  wife  sat  bv  the  side  of  her 
mother's  shanty  door,  and  sobbed  and  sobbed,  and  mopped 


138  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

her  face  with  her  apron.,  and  wandered  alone  through  the 
woods,  and  sat  in  gloom  by  the  new-made  grave.  Oh.  how 
my  heart  did1  ache  for  the  poor  thing! 

But  the  work  went  right  on.  And  without  halting, 
the  days  and  the  weeks  rode  past  on  the  trot,  and  as  they 
passed  they  handed  us  great  big  thick  slices  cut  from  the 
loaf  of  toil  and  hardship,  leavened  with  hope  and  the  pur- 
pose of  young  manhood;  and  the  slices  were  spread  on  both 
sides  with  peaceful  contentment  and  the  wild  honey  ot 
love,  in  our  cabin  homes  in  the  dark  shady  woods  on  the 
western  frontier. 

There  was  a  double  wedding-  at  the  Father's  house,  in 
Rock  Bluffs,  Xebraska  Territory,  and  Elizabeth  and  Belle 
(the  wee  curly-headed  baby  girl  that  the  Mother  carried 
in  her  arms  from  the  deck  of  the  Red  Wing  into  the  dark- 
forest  on  the  western  bank  of  the  Mississippi  River)  were 
married.  Elizabeth  married  Doctor  John,  and  Doctor 
Jphn  carried  her  back  to  his  Eastern  home;  Belle  married 
Steve,  and  they  remained  in  the  West. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

The  ice  broke  in  the  Missouri  River  and  gorged,  and 
the  water  flowed  from  bluff  to  bluff,  in  places  ten  miles 
wide,  and  right  through  the  cabin  windows.  Tress  and 
Margaret  and  Freck  and  Mary,  with  their  halms,  pushed 
a  skiff  out  into  the  ice-gorged  channel  of  the  mile-wide 
river  and  worked  their  way  through  the  ice-flow:  and 
many  times  the  skiff  was  caught  between  the  great  floating 
blocks  and  crushed  until  the  water  gushed  in,  but  with 
much  baling  ii  was  kept  afloat  until,  inanv  miles  below, 
tln-y  reached  the  shore.  And  two  day-  thereafter,  in  the 
Fathers  house  in  Rock  Bluffs.  Xebraska  Territory,  on  the 
•^'.ih  day  of  April.  LSfJ"?.  there  wa<  bi.rn  to  Freek  and  Mary 
a  -ot)  ;  and  they  called  him  Will. 

There  came  a  call  for  volunteers  to  go  to  the  front,  to 
be  -hot  and  mangled  and  lorn  limb  from  limb,  and  die  in 
camps  and  in  swamps  and  in  baiHes  and  in  prisons,  that 
thf-f  Tinted  States  of  America  might  go  down  to  genera- 
tions yet  unborn  one  great  and  glorious  and  undivided 
country,  and  that  the  star-spangled  banner  might  wave 
oYr  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave.  ; 


KKMINISCKNCES  OF  I'IONKKU   LIFE  l.'W 

and  Will  bad  come  to  the  parting  of  the  ways.  Jim  and 
Will  man-bed  away  in  Company-  P>,  Twenty-ninth  Iowa 
Volunteer  Infant  r\ ;  I'ress  and  Frk  marched  away  to  (ill 
the  ranks  of  the  Foimb  Iowa  Battery;  and  Steve  galloped 
a\vav'  in  a  Nebraska  regiment  of  cavalry.  The  Father,  tin- 
Mother.  Belle.  Margaret,  and  Mary  entreated  Frei-k  not 
to  go  to  the  war  and  leave  them  alone.  The  Father,  tlie 
Mother,  and  I'.elle  moved  into  the  dark  shady  woods  near 
Freck  and  Mary  and  Margaret. 

And  now  began  ihe  long,  anxious,  heart-weary  waiting 
for  news  From  the  war.  There  was  no  railroad,  no  tele- 
graph, and  only  a  weekly  mail,  and  the  post-office  twelve 
miles  away;  so  when  a  letter  was  received  from  the  battle- 
fields, the  Camp,  or  the  march,  it  would  go  around  thd  set- 
tlement; and  when  men  living  far  away  came  to  the  mill, 
a  soldier's  letter  would  he  fetched  along,  and  the  mill 
would  lie  shut  down  while  the  letter  was  read.  By  a  com- 
mon anxiety  and  a  common  sorrow  the  hearts  of  the  loyal 
people  were  closely  drawn,  and  they  met  as  brothers;  and 
the  line  between  the  loyal  and  the  disloyal  was  sharply 
drawn.  The  disloyal  were  called  "Copperheads,"  and  when 
the  Union  arms  met  with  defeat,  their  fangs  were  visible. 

To  add  to  our  danger  and  apprehension,  the  woods 
would  fill  up  with  Indians  in  the  winter,  and  they  were 
threatening  and  annoying.  They  would  steal  up  and  pull 
the  latch-string  and  crowd  the  women  and  children  from 
the  fire,  and  go  out  only  when  given  bread  or  meat.  But 
in  the  summer  they  would  go  out  into  the  buffalo  country. 

A  company  of  Home  Guards  was  organized  and  mus- 
tered in,  and  armed  by  the  State;  they  drilled  Saturdays. 
The  woods  were  filling  up  with  refugees  driven  out  of 
the  Southwest  by  both  the  Blue  and  the  Gray — house- 
burners,  robbers,  murderers,  and  bushwhackers.  And  they 
and  our  own  "Copperheads'7  would  mingle,  and  as  we 
drilled  they  would  make  ugly  and  sarcastic  remarks;  for 
we  were  not  an  attractive  company  of  soldiers,  clad  in  our 
home-made  garments  and  made  up  of  the  odds  and  ends — 
old  men  and  boys,  and  a  few  sick  and  maimed  soldiers 
sent  home  from  the  front.  At  times  we  would  become  ex- 
asperated and  round  up  a  bunch  of  them  and  march  them 
to  the  marshal  and  make  them  take  the  oath  of  allegiance; 
and  this  would  drive  them  mad.  They  galloped  through 


140  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

the  woods  yelling  and  firing  their  revolvers,  and  they  kept 
us  in  a  state  of  terror. 

Down  in  Plum  Hollow  there  lived  an  old  man  and  his 
wife  alone,  and  they  sold  a  part  of  their  farm  for  a  thous- 
and dollars  (there  were  no  banks  in  those  days).  One 
morning  a  neighbor  missed  the  smoke  from  the  chimney, 
and  went  over ;  there  in  the  cabin  lay  the  old  man  and  his 
wife  with  their  heads  split  open,  and  a  bloody  axe.  They 
were  buried;  and  the  next  day  some  men  and  boys  rode 
around  among  the  refugee  camps  and  quietly  said:  "Give 
up  those  murderers,  or  you  will  all  be  wiped  off  the  face 
of  the  earth ;  and  do  it  quick."  And  without  firing  of 
guns  or  noise  or  confusion,  the  boys  and  the  men  rode 
away;  and  they  left  those  murderers  to  be  buried  by  their 
friends,  and  to  keep  the  ropes  for  souvenirs.  The  refugees 
shot  and  killed  Felix  Van  Eaton,  a  returned  soldier  and 
marshal ;  but  the  perpetrators  fled  south  and  escaped.  And 
some  buildings  were  burned  on  Silver  Creek,  and  the  Home 
Guards  were  ordered  out ;  but  the  settlements  were  so  far 
apart  they  easily  kept  in  hiding. 

One  day  Freck  went  out  to  a  cross-roads,  where  there 
was  a  little  store  and  saloon.  Freck  went  for  the  purpose 
of  meeting  a  man  who  was  to  pay  him  five  hundred  dollars ; 
and  while  the  man  was  counting  the  money,  three  refugees 
came  from  the  saloon  into1  the  store,  and  they  urged  Freck 
to  go  and  have  a  drink  with  them ;  but  Frjeck  never  drank ; 
two  returned  to  the  saloon,  but  one  sat  down  by  the  door. 
Half  a  mile  from  the  store  there  was  a  bayou,  which  was 
crossed  on  a  ferry,  a  little  flatboat.  Freck  waited  and 
watched  a  long  time,  and  at  last  all  three  were,  in  the 
saloon;  then  Freck  slipped  past  and  made  haste  down  to 
the  ferry.  When  half  way  over,  one  of  them,  who  was 
called  by  his  mates  "Bill  the  Woman-killer,"  came  racing 
and  shouting  to  the  ferryman :  "Come  back  for  me."  But 
the  ferryman  said:  "T  will  set  you  over  and  go  back  for 
Bill."  It  was  a  mile  through  the  thick  woods  to  his  home, 
but  Freck  knew  what  was  in  store  for  him  should  "Bill  the 
Woman-killer"  overtake  him.  Five  minutes  after  Freck 
sank  down  exhausted  on  the  doorstep,  Bill  came  out  of  the 
thick  woods  into  the  little  clearing  and  parsed  on  to  his 
den  in  the  willows.  And  at  midnight  a  voice  in  front  of 
the  door  called:  "Hello !  Hello!"  But  all  was  still  in  the 
house.  Then  the  tramping  of  feet  was  heard,  and  again: 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  141 

"Hello!  Hello!"  But  the  silence  in  the  house  was  un- 
broken, except  by  the  throbbing1  of  Fleck's  and  Mary's 
hearts.  For  three  successive  nights  this  was  repeated;  but 
the  door  was  not  opened,  nor  answer  made,  and  they  feared 
to  attack  the  door.  But  had  Freck  opened  the  door,  that 
•moment  his  breast  would  have  been  filled  with  buckshot. 
And  the  nearest  neighbor  was  a  mile  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXYI. 

Down,  in  the  South-land  there  were  marching  and  bat- 
tles, and  there  were  victories  and  defeats;  and  thousands 
lay  dead,  torn,  and  mangled;  and  the  land  was  drenched 
with  blood  and  tears;  and  homes  were  made  desolate  and 
filled  with  mourning.  Zeke's  twin  brother  fell  at  his  side, 
and  another  brother  stepped  forward  and  filled  his  place  in 
the  front  rank;  for  Reub  and  Mother  Reub  gave  six  sons 
to  go  in  on  the  double  quick  where  the  cannons  belched 
forth  fires  of  death,  and  the  muskets  were  blazing,  and 
bayonets  were  pointed,  and  the  battle  raged,  and  the  lines 
surged  forward  and  backward,  that  the  union  of  these 
United  States  might  be  one  and  inseparable.  And  in  all 
the  land  there  was  not  a  home  free  from  mourning. 

The  order  came :  "Fall  in !"  And  Jim  and  Will 
grasped  their  guns  and  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and 
side  by  side  they  kept  step.  Will  fell  from  the  ranks,  and 
Jim  was  detailed  to  care  for  him ;  and  the  next  day,  Octo- 
ber 5,  1863,  Will  said :  "Jim,  I  saw  such  a  beautiful  coun- 
try, and  heard  such  lovely  music."  And  Will  again  closed 
his  boyish  blue  eyes,  and  Jim  was  standing  alone  by  the 
side  of  a  dead  soldier  and  a  dead  brother.  A  kind  and 
merciful  God  has  given  no  kinder  brother  to  bless  an  hum- 
ble home,  and  to  Frock  he  was  the  other  half  of  his  soul. 
And  Freck  lived  over  again  his  boyhood  days  with  Will, 
and  his  heart  cried:  "Oh,  this  cruel,  cruel  war!  The 
price  is  too  much !  the  price  is  too  much  !"  The  months 
dragged  past,  bringing  new  sorrows;  and  the  fountain  of 
tears  overflowed  in  every  home. 

While  down  in  the  South-land  the  bayonets  gleamed 
in  the  sunlight,  and  the  valleys  were  darkened  by  the  smoke 
of  battle,  and  a  loaded  musket  stood  by  the  bedside,  in  the 
dark  shady  woods,  on  June  21,  1864,  there  was  born  to 


142 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIOXEER  LIFE 


Freck  and  Mary  a  sweet  little  baby  girl:  and  they  called 
her  Margaret  Florence.  And  here  is  I  he  picture  of  the 
little  baby  girl  born  in  the  dark  shady  woods  on  the  west- 
ern frontier,  twenty-three  years  thereafter. 


FLORENCE 

The  months,  wholly  indifferent  t<>  the  tears  of  the 
wives,  the  mother-,  and  the  sisters,  passed  right  on,  and 
smiled  and  frowned  and  stormed  in  the  same,  old  way;  and 
the  whirlpool  of  this  world's  affairs  went  on  around  and 
around,  and  Freck  was  caught  in  the  whirlpool.  He 
bought  cattle  and  horses  and  limber  lands,  and  operated 
the  mill,  and  shipped  lumber  up  river  by  steamboat.  The* 
steamboats  would  send  onl  the  three  long  "\Vhoo!  Whoo-o ! 
Whoo-o-o  !v  And  the  great  bell  would  ring  out,  "Ding- 
dong!  Ding-dong!  Ding-dong!"  which  said:  "I'm  go- 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  143 

iiig  ro  land!  I'm  going  to  land!  I'm  going  to  land!" 
And  the  little  bells  over  the  engines  would  say:  "Slmv 
lip."  And  the  pilot  would  whirl  his  wheel  and  the  boat 
would  glide  up  and  poke  her  nose  against  the  soft  bank, 
.and  the  line  would  be  made  fast  around  a  tree,  and  the 
gangplanks  would  be  run  out;  and  a  line  of  deckhands 
would  trot  out  on  one  plank  and  back  on  the  other,  and 
soon  the  deck  would  be  piled  with  lumber.  And  the  gong 
over  the  furnace  would  say  to  the  firemen:  "Build  up  your 
fires."  And  the  great  bell  would  call:  "Let  go  the  line. 
Let  go  the  line.  Let  go  the  line.'7  And  at  times  the  Cap- 
tain would  call :  "Freck,  come  aboard  and  go  up  with  us." 
And  at  times  Freck  would  step  aboard,  and  in  a  dreamy 
haze  he  would  watch  the  great  foam-capped  waves  roll  off 
down  the  river,  growing  smaller;  and  he  would  think  of 
the  Bed  Wing,  and  of  all  the  years  that  had  come  and  gone. 
And  while  Freck  was  thus  engaged,  almost  day  and  night, 
and  in  fighting  the  mosquitos,  and  shaking  with  the  ague, 
and  taking  calomel  and  quinine,  and  in  watching  the  In- 
dians and  the  refugees,  and  could  not  keep  his  eye  on  them, 
the  years  sneaked  past. 

Down  in  the  South-land  the  roar  of  the  cannon,  the 
shriek  of  the  shells,  and  the  trampling  of  the  armies 
made  the  earth  tremble;  and  the  feeble  moan,  the  piti- 
ful wail,  and  the  cry  of  agony  from,  the  torn  and  mangled 
rose  up  to  the  throne  of  God,  and  the  angels  veiled  their 
faces  and  wept;  and  the  blood  dripped  through  into  Hell, 
and  the  Devil  sat  on  his  throne  and  chanted  in  triumph. 
And  a  pyramid  reaching  higher  than  the  million  of  the 
dead  and  the  wounded  was  builded,  and  still  the  war  to 
destroy  and  to  perpetuate  this  government  went  right  on  : 
and  time  went  right  on,  and  the  whirlpool  of  this  world's 
affairs  went  right  on,  and  Freck  was  in  the  whirlpool  and 
was  carried  around  and  around. 

Freck  bought  and  sold  cattle  and  horses  and  made 
new  farms.  There  was  a  wood  famine  on  the  river  for  the 
steamboats ;  for  the  men  were  away  wearing  the  blue.  So 
Freck  employed  about  fifty  Indians  to  chop  cordwood;  and 
some  of  the  steamboat  men  swore  at  such  wood,  but  they 
had  to  buy  it.  The  refugee  caring  for  Freck's  cattle  got 
on  a  protracted  drunk,  and  the  cattle  became  crazed  for 
water  and  broke  the  fence  and  went  out  on  the  ice  on 
Horseshoe  Lake,  a  hundred  or  more,  and  the  ice  broke,  and 


144  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

twenty-one  big,  fat,  three-year-old  steers  were  drowned ;. 
they  were  worth  fifty  dollars  a  head.  And  the  Indiana 
dragged  them  from  the  lake  and  smoked  the  flesh,  and 
feasted  on  the  bones  and  the  other  parts,  reserving  the 
smoked  flesh  for  summer. 

In  the  spring  of  1865  Freck  heard  the  great  bell  on 
the  hurricane  deck  of  a  passing  steamboat  calling :  "I  'm 
going  to  land !  I  'm  going  to  land !  I  'm  going  to  land !" 
And  the  little  bells  said :  "Slow  up."  And  the  West  Wind 
poked  her  nose  into  the  soft  bank,  and  the  great  wheels 
kept  slowly  revolving  and  holding  her  nose  against  the 
bank  while  the  gangplank  was  run  out;  and  a  tattered 
coat  of  blue  limped  ashore.  There  were  tears  of  rejoicing 
over  the  return  of  old  Jim,  and  there  were  tears  of  sorrow 
over  the  absence  for  ever  of  Will.  Freck  learned  all  about 
the  battle,  and  the  soldier  that  fell  at  Nathan's  side  (whose 
name  wasn't  Sam),  and  how  he  lay  on  the  battle-field  and 
knew,  as  in)  a  dream,  that  the  Blue  and  the  Gray  were 
leaping  over  the  dead  and  the  wounded,  and  knew  that  the 
blood  was  flowing  from  his  wound;  and  how  he,  still  in  a 
kind  of  dream,  thought  of  home  and  mother,  and  watched 
Xathan's  face  grow  whiter  and  whiter  until  Death  spread 
his  ashen  wing  over  his  boyish  face  and  his  glazed  eyes 
looked  up  at  the  sky. 

CHAPTER  XXXVIT. 

Down  in  the  South-land  the  cannons  were  silent,  the 
bayonets  no  longer  gleamed  in  the  sunlight,  the  smoke  of 
battle  had  lifted  from  the  valleys,  and  the  cruel  war  was 
over.  And  the  union  of  these  United  States  of  America 
was  one  and  inseparable.  And  the  perpetuation  thereof  is 
now  with  the  people  of  the  South-land ;  for  the  North-land 
is  honeycombed  with  anarchy  and  kindred  heresies. 

While  the  tramp  of  the  mule  down  in  the  South-land 
was  heard  among  the  cotton  and  the  corn,  and  the  tattered 
coats  of  gray  were  struggling  with  the  problem  of  "Recon- 
struction" and  flic  building  of  their  homes,  there  was  born 
to  Mary  and  Freck,  September  7,  186fi,  a  son;  and  they 
called  him  "Robert,  and  for  ever  after  he  was  their  "babv 
boy." 

One  morning  in  the  early  spring,  facing  a  strong- 
wind  driving  flurries  of  hail-snow,  a  prairie  schooner 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  145 

drawn  by  three  yoke  of  oxen  was  slowly  making  its  way 
-along  a  dim  trail  across  the  bleak  prairies  of  northeast 
.Nebraska  Territory;  seated  among  the  stuff  was  Margaret 
and  her  children;  and  Press,  wearing  a  faded  coat  of  blue, 
was  the  pilot.  And  following  was  one  drawn  by  two  yoke 
of  oxen;  and  Belle  (the  wee  curly-headed  baby  girl  that  the 
Mother  carried  from  the  deck  of  the  Red  Wing)  and  her 
two  children  were  snuggled  away  from  the  flurries  of  hail- 
snow;  and  Steve,  wearing  the  tattered  garb  of  a  cavalry- 
man, gave  the  oxen  the  required  encouragement.  And  a 
third,  drawn  by  two  yoke  of  oxen,  followed ;  and  the  Mother, 
with  her  back  to  the  flurries  of  hail-snowy  sat  therein ;  and 
the  Father,  with  hair  as  white  as  the  snow,  and  his  tall, 
slender  form  a  little  bent  to  meet  the  wind  and  the  hail- 
snow,  walked,  as  was  his  custom,  by  the  side  of  his  oxen. 
They  were  going  forth,  the  Father  in  his  seventieth  year, 
to  seek  out  and  build  for  themselves  homes  on  the  Weak 
prairies  of  the  western  frontier. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Doctor  John  and  Elizabeth  returned  to  the  West,  fetch- 
ing along  their  baby  and  Eleanor,  Doctor  John's  sister. 
Mature  was  kind  to  Eleanor,  and  gave  her  an  attractive 
form  and  face  and  a  kind  and  gentle  spirit;  and  Mary  and 
Eleanor  became  very  dear  friends.  Eleanor  taught  school 
until  she  met  Chan,  a  worthy  young  man;  and  it  happened 
to  Eleanor  and  Chan  as  it  has  happened  to  many  young 
people,  and  will  happen  to  many  more  young  people — they 
loved  and  married.  They  hauled  lumber  from  the  Mis- 
souri River  and  built  a  little  house,  and  while  Chan  placed 
the  lumber  on  the  wagon,  Eleanor  pulled  up  the  little  cot- 
ionwoods  on  the  sand-bar  and  they  were  planted  on  the 
north  and  west  of  the  house.  Doctor  John  and  Elizabeth 
lived  on  the  adjoining  claim  on  the  north,  but  to  the  west 
there  was  not  a  settler  between  them  and  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, five  hundred  miles  away.  They  plowed  and  they 
planted,  and  Eleanor  and  Chan  harvested  the  heaping  loads 
of  golden  corn;  and  while  Chan  threw  it  into  the  crib, 
Eleanor  prepared  the  dinner.  And  they  were  happy;  for 
they  had  each  other. 

The  wheel  of  time  had  revolved  seven  times,  and  three 


146  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER 

babies  played  iu  the  shade  in  the  cottonwood  grove;  in  tin- 
yard  were  liowers  and  vines,  and  in  the  barnyard  then 
horses  and  cows;  and  they  had  laid  a  goodly  foundation 
for  a  home  mi  the  western  frontier.  The  wind  came  howl- 
ing down  from  the  northwest,  driving  ihe  blinding  snow 
before  it,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  awful  storm  Eleanor  gave 
birth  to  two  tiny  baby  girls;  and  six  hours  thereafter 
Eleanor  paid  the  price  with  her  life.  Her  small  form  was 
clothed  in'  her  wedding  garments,  and  her  hands  were  fold- 
ed over  her  breast  and  her  voice  was  silent;  but  even  in 
death  Eleanor  was  beautiful.  Mary  and  Freck  stood  side 
by  side  and  watched  the  drifting  snow  pouring  over  into 
the  new-made  grave  on  the  bleak  prairie  on  the  western 
frontier,  where  Eleanor  will  sleep  till  Jesus  comes.  Eliza- 
beth took  the  babies  to  her  home  and  divided  the  nourish- 
ment from  her  breasts  with  them  and  her  own  baby;  but  in 
a  Ifttle  while  a  grave  was  digged  by  the  side  of  Elean»,- 
and  a  tiny  coil'm  was  lowered  into  it,  in  which  w<ire  sleeping, 
side  by  side,  two  little  babies.  Mary  and  Freck  took  two 
little  girls  to  their  home,  and  tenderly  cared  for  them  until 
their  grandmother  came  from;  the  East  and  carried  them 
away;  and  thirty  years  thereafter  one  of  these  little  girls 
visited  Mary  and  Freck  in  the  West.  Eleanor  was  Fr- 
cousin. 

CHAPTEB  XX  XIX. 

The  mules  were  harnessed  to  the  wagon,  and  Fnvk 
and  Mary  pulled  out  for  northeast  Xebraska  Territory,  to 
srrk  out  a  home  on  the  western  frontier.  In  time  they 
—cd  the  Missouri  Kiver  at  Omaha,  and  thev  ramped  on 
the  hank  of  the  river  and  lariated  the  mules  ii-  tin-  tall 
grass  right  \\hnv  tin-  great  -teel  railroad  bridge  is  n<»»- 
lariated  to  tin-  bank.  How  do  I  know  this?  P>erau>e  I 
wras  there  when  the  railroad  bridge  was  budded,  and  furn- 
i-hed  much  of  the  lumber  used  in  building  the  skeleton 
bridgo.  They  passed  through  the  "stake  of  /ion."  Flor- 

.  and  pa.-ed  ihe  l<>g  cabins  in  the  woods  ealled   I  ^    ^ 
City,  and  eamped  one  night   on   the  ground  where  the  • 
of  Blair  now  stands.     And   forty-one  years  thereafter  i 
visited    I)nctor   .John    and    Elizabeth    in    the   eitv   of  Blair^ 
where  once  thev  had  camped  on  the  wild   prairie.      \Yrily, 
no  man  nor  woman  has  ever  lived  who  has  witnessed  gr- 


lil-i.MIMx  >F     1'loNl.lK     Llli;  147 

LT  changes  in  a  country  than  Fnvk  and  Mary  have  seen 

in  tlu1  western  frontier.  They  drove  across  the  prairii CO 

Hell  Creek,  and  the  Lo.^an,  and  the  Klklmni.  campiii- 
wherever  the  sun  shut  tin-  door  in  their  fa 

They  lingered  awhile  with  Pros  and  Marj^uvl,  and 
Steve  and  Belle,  and  ihe  Father  and  the  Mother;  and  the! 
they  passed  mi  to  the  north.  pa-si  ML;'  through  Tekama,  a 
do/,'11  lioiisi-s  at  the  foot  of  the  river  hluil's.  And  all  da> 
long  they  drove  up  the  wide  \alley,  without  a  house;  hut 
net  -everal  bands  of  Indians.  .Near  the  north  line 
of  the  Territory  they  crossed  the  Missouri  River  on  a  flat- 
boat,  run  by  an  Indian  and  a  white  man;  and  passing 
through  Onawa,  they  drove  on  to  the  Maple  River,  and 
to  "Zion's  stake/''  Preparation;  and  crossing  the  Jordan, 
they  drove  south,  and  camped  one  night  on  the  ground 
where  now  stands  the  city  of  Missouri  Valley.  Crossing 
the  Boyur  River,  they  struck  out  onto  the  Honey  Creek 
hills;  and  passing  through  "Zion's  stake,"  Crescent,  camped 
at  night  on  Council  Creek,  near  the  now  center  of  the  great 
city  of  Council  Bluffs. 

In  the  evening,  as  they  drove  around  Horseshoe  Bend, 
the  thunder  began  to  rumble  and  to  roll,  and  the  lightning 
to  flash  across  the  western  sky,  and  the  black  clouds  in  their 
baste  rolled  and  tumbled  over  each  other,  and  the  sun  in 
a  fright  quickly  slipped  in  behind  the  angry  storm-clouds 
and  turned  down  his  lamp;  and  as  the  light  of  the  world 
began  to  grow  dim  they  came  to  a  cabin  in  the  lonely 
woods.  They  were  taken  in  from  the  threatening  storm, 
and  they  were  shown  a  little  low  shed,  where  was  a  bed. 
The  thunder  rolled  and  crashed  and  the  lightning  looked 
in  through  the  cracks,  and  Mary  and  Freck  talked  in  whis- 
pers and  their  hair  seemed  to  creep,  and  they  feared  to  close 
their  eyes  in  sleep;  for  surely  this  was  none  other  than  a 
den  of  robbers  in  this  dark  and  lonelv  wood.  With  beat- 
ing hearts  they  listened,  and  they  hoard  the  voice  of  a  mar. 
reading,  and  the  moving  of  feet,  and  then  they  heard  the 
voice  of  a,  man  in  prayer;  and  Freck  and  Mary,  in  perfect 
peace,  closed  their  eyes  in  sleep. 


148  KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Scraps  of  boyhood  songs  kept  flitting  through.  Freck's 
mind : 

"Oh,  the  farmer's!  life  is  the  life  for  me ! 

I  own  I  love  it  dearly : 
To  plow,  to  sow,  to  reap,  to  mow, 
And  in  the  barn  to  thresh  it." 

Freck  sold  his  mill,  and  bought  a  farm  at  Mount 
Pleasant  Grove,  Nebraska  Territory — two  hundred  and 
forty  acres,  a  house  and  barn,  eighty  acres  in  cultivation, 
forty  acres  of  timber,  and  a  spring  branch ;  and  Freck  paid 
Joe  Walker  five  dollars  an  acre  to  break  eighty  acres  more. 
Freck  and  Mary  moved  onto  the  farm,  taking  along  the 
babies,  more  than  a  hundred  cattle,  and  a,  quarter-hundred 
horses.  Freckj  ferried  lumber  across  the  Missouri  River 
and  built  a  new  fence  around  a  quarter-section  (160  acres) ; 
for  there  was  no  wire  fencing  in  those  days.  Freck  had  a 
lovely  farm,  and  he  kept  on  singing:  "Oh,  the  farmer's 
life  is  the  life  for  me!" 

In  the  fall  the  grasshoppers  came  down  and  filled  ev- 
ery spot  and  place  where  the  sod  was  broken  with  their 
eggs.  In  the  spring  Freck  paid  two  and  one-half  dollars 
a  bushel  for  seed  wheat  and  sowed  the  eighty  acres  of  new 
land  to  wheat,  and  he  planted  the  other  eighty  acres  to 
corn;  and  the  wheat  and  the  corn  grew  and  made  the  heart 
glad.  And  the  cattle  came  up  along  the  paths,  lowing  in 
the  evening,  to  lick  salt  from  the  salt-boxes  and  to  sleep 
at  home;  and  Freck  kept  right  on  singing,  real  loud:  "Oh, 
the  farmer's  life  is  the  life  for  me !" 

And  the  little  grasshoppers  began  to  hop  and  to  eat, 
and  in  twenty  days  there  was  not  a  stalk  of  wheat  standing 
on  the  eighty  acres;  then  they  started  in  on  the  corn,  and 
they  took  it  clean  as  they  went;  but  suddenly,  with  a  roar, 
Iliov  arose  and  flew  away  to  the  northwest.  And  the  cat- 
tle still  came  up  in  the  evening  to  lick  salt  from  the  salt- 
boxes  and  to  sleep  at  home;  and  Freck  sauntered  around 
among  them  and  in  a  submissive  and  subdued  manner  slow- 
ly and  lowly  sang:  "Oh,  the  farmer's  life  is  the  life  for 
me!" 

And    in    the   fall    the   grasshoppers   returned    like   a 


KKMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  149 

mighty  snow-storm,  shutting  out  the  sun  and  covering  the 
earth  and  the  trees,  and  they  cleaned  up  the  corn  and  the 
garden-truck;  and  Freck  reaped  not  a  sheaf  of  wheat  nor 
an  ear  of  corn  from  the  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres,  and 
the  seed  alone  had  cost  him  four  hundred  dollars.  But 
the  cattle  still  came  up  in  the  evening  to  lick  salt;  and 
Fm-k  sat  on  the  fence  and  looked  over  his  brown  and  bare 
fields,  and  in  a  pensive  mood  he  mused :  "Oh !  the  farmer's 
life  is  all  right,  in  song  and  story." 

Freck  sold  his  farm  for  five  thousand  dollars,  and 
mounting  his  horse,  he  rode  over  the  Missouri  River  (for 
the  ice  was  twenty  inches  thick)  and  out  to  his  old  friend 
Reub,  Zeke's  father ;  and  Reub  and  Freck  got  onto  a  dicker, 
and  Freck  bought  R  cub's  farm  at  the  foot  of  the  river 
bluffs,  with  a  big  barn  and  a  big  house;  the  lower  story 
was  stone  and  the  upper  story  was  frame.  Freck  turned 
over  to  Reub  one  hundred  and  fifty  cattle  and  a  bunch  of 
horses  and  money  to  make  the  price,  eight  thousand  and 
eight  hundred  dollars.  Freck  planted  one  hundred  and 
ten  acres  in  corn,  and  he  harvested  seven  thousand  and 
seven  hundred  bushels  of  corn.  He  sold  four  thousand 
bushels  of  the  corn  in  the  crib,  for  forty-four  cents  a  bushel, 
to  Judge  Bosbyshell,  a  merchant  in  Glenwood  and  the  best 
man  I  ever  knew;  and  the  corn  was  shipped  down  river, 
to  feed  Uncle  Sam's  mules. 

There  was  a  little  cabin  on  the  farm,  in  the  grove, 
twenty  rods1  from  the  house ;  and  Johnny  and  Abby  lived  in 
the  cabin.  Abby  was  a  little  bit  of  a  thing,  pretty  and 
smart;  and  Johnny  was  short  and  stubby,  and  worked  for 
Freck.  Johnny  was  a  good  boy,  and  reliable;  you  didn't 
have  to  watch  him.  Both  were  young,  and  were  still  boy 
and  girl  lovers;  they  carried  water  from  the  well  at  the 
house  with  the  pail  between  them.  Billy  was  Johnny's 
brother;  Billy  was  taller  than  Johnny,  but  younger.  Billy 
worked  for  Freck  in  corn-shucking  time,  and  made  his 
home  with  Johnny  and  Abby.  Johnny  was  real  quiet,  but 
Billy  was  mighty  full  of  talk;  and  like  two  silly  children, 
Billy  and  Abby  talked)  and  laughed  'and  giggled.  The 
Devil  handed  Johnny  a  cup  of  the  bitter  dregs  of  the  wine 
of  jealousy,  and  Johnny  drank  it:  T  don't  know  whether 
Johnny  drank  it  all  at  once,  or  a  little  at  a  time.  One 
morning  Abby  came  flying  down  the  path  as  fast  as  her 
feet  could  carry  her,  her  hair  all  tousled  up,  and  scream- 


150  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 

ing  :  "Johnny  —  Johnny  —  Johnny  's  hanged  !"  Freck 
called  to  his  man,,  and  they  ran  down  together;  and  there 
in  an  old  hay-shed  was  little  Johnny,  his  toes  touching  the 
ground,  his  knees  bent,  his  short,  -chubby  neck  stretched 
away  out,  and  in  his  stocking  feet.  We  buried  Johnny  in 
the  grove  on  the  hillside,  back  of  the  barn.  Little  Abby 
crouched  by  the  side  of  the  grave  and  sobbed  and  sobbed ; 
and  her  father  came  and  carried  her  home  to  Missouri. 
Johnny  is  still  sleeping  in  the  grove  back  of  the  barn;  and 
the  Devii  keeps  right  on,  in  the  dark  and  dismal  chambers 
of  Hell,  distilling  the  wine  of  jealousy  and  handing  out  the 
bitter  dregs. 

Freck  sold  his  farm,  and  bought  a  steam  saw-mill  and 
timber  lands,  and  he  shipped  timber  and  cross-ties  up  the 
river  on  steamboats,  to  build  the  Union  L'acfic  Eailroad 
west  from  Omaha.  One  morning  the  saw  was  singing  its 
song  and  the  engine  was  measuring  off  its  strokes,  and  the 
men  were  performing  their  duties;  some  were  singing, 
others  were  whistling,  and  all  seemed  full  of  gladness. 
Then  Warren  Mills,  the  engineer,  with  a  song  on  his  lips, 
was  caught  in  the  fly-wheel,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye  he  was  thrown  to  the  roof,  and  fell  mangled  and 
broken.  On  the  morrow  we  buried  Wrarren,  and  the  next 
morning'  another  stepped  into  his  place;  and  the  whirlpool 
of  this  world's  affairs  went  right  on  around  and  around. 

When  the  great  steel  railroad  bridge  was  built  at 
Omaha,  Freck  furnished  much  of  the  material  for  the 
skeleton  bridge;  and  men  like  ants  climbed  all  over  it.  I 
don't  know  who  drove  the  first  engine  over  the  bridge;  but 
when  I  have  gone  whirling  across,  T  have  always  looked 
for  the  trampled  grass  where  Mary  and  Freck  lariated  the 
mules. 

CHAPTER  XLT. 

Press  and  Margaret,  and  Steve  and  Belle,  and  the 
Father  and  the  Mother  put  up  a  long  and  stubborn  fight 
against  I  he  adverse  conditions  that  militate  against  the  set- 
tler on  the  western  frontier.  A  little  school-house  and  a 
little  white  mepting-lioiisr,  with  a  graveyard  at  the  back, 
were  Imilded:  for  wheresoever  the  sons  and  daughters  of 
men  abide  for  a  season,  there  must  needs  be  a  burial-place 


REMINISCENCES  OF  I'IONKKI;   Lm-;  151 

for  the  dead.  And  in  this  graveyard  Helle  'miried  tlmv  of 
IHT  Children,  one  a  lovely  girl  of  sixteen  year-. 

The  years  went  rolling  on,  leaving  smiles  and  tears  in 
their  wake,  and  plowing  furrows  in  the  cheeks  and  paint- 
ing streaks  of  silver  in  the  hair;  and  babies;  were  born  and 
lialiies  died:  and  the  once  bleak  and  lonely  prairie  was  dot- 
ted over  with  groves  of  cottonwood,  maple,  and  walnut. 
The  privations,  the  hardships,  and  the  scant  living.,  known 
only  to  the  early  settlers,  became  less  severe,  and  they  be- 
gan to  reap  some  fruit  for  their  labor  and  self-denial.  But 
the  passing  years  left  the  Father,  sitting  in  his  homestead 
cabin,  in  total  darkness;  for  his  eyes  had  gone  out.  The 
Mother,  however,  in  her  seventy-fifth  year,  was  still  putting 
up  a  good  fight  against  the  adverse  conditions  of  life.  But 
not  a  murmur  escaped  the  lips  of  either.  The  Father 
would  say:  "It  might  have  been  much  worse."  And  the 
Mother  would  say :  "God  knows  best." 

Freck  was  still  in  the  whirlpool,  going  around  and 
around,  buying  and  selling,  making  new  farms,  and  doing 
his  part  in  changing  the  wilderness  into  a  garden.  He 
hauled  lumber  away  up  on  upper  Silver  Creek,  two  days' 
drive,  and  built  a  nice  frame  house,  and  moved  onto  the 
farm ;  leaving  the  mill  in  charge  of  a  foreman. 

In  the  spring  he  sold  the  farm  to  an  Irish  blacksmith 
living  in  Council  Bluffs,  for  twenty-five  hundred  dollars. 
Mary  and  Freck  drove  to  Council  Bluffs  to  make  the  deed 
and  receive  the  money;  for  payment  was  not  made  by  check, 
as  there  were  no  banks  in  those  days  on  the  frontier.  It 
was  four  o'clock  when  they  were  ready  to  start  for  home; 
it  was  twenty  miles,  with  not  a  house  between,  and  the 
first  five  miles  was  through  the  brushy  river  hills.  Soon 
Freck  became  oppressed  with  a  fear  that  a  band  of  refugee 
bushwhackers  would  follow,  and  they  would  be  murdered 
and  robbed;  for,  mind  you,  he  had  the  twenty-five  hundred 
dollars  in  his  breast  pocket.  Freck  could  not  refrain  from 
looking  back,  but  he  pretented  he  was  watching  some  bun- 
dles in  the  wagon;  but  when  they  reached  the  summit,  and 
the  road  stretched  away  across  the  prairie  for  twelve  miles, 
and  the  shades  of  night  were  creeping  closer  and  closer 
and  the  sun  was  pinning  a  dark  cloud-curtain  over  the 
window.  Freck  turned  and  took  a  long,  listening,  and 
anxious  look  behind.  When  Mary  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm,  and  with  a  frightened  look  in  her  eyes  and  a  tremble 


152  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

in  her  voice  asked,  "Robert^are  they  following  us?"  Freck 
knew  then  that  there  were  two  hearts  that  beat  as  one. 
Now,  Freck  was  driving  a  span  of  bay  mares,  for  which  he 
had  paid  Gran  Fleming  six  hundred  dollars,  and  he  did 
hate  awfully  bad  to  overdrive  them.  But  they  kept  push- 
ing out  their  noses  and  saying:  "Give  us  the  bit;  give  us 
the  bit."  And  Freck  said :  "Take  the  bit  and  go/7  The 
wagon  spun  around  the  windings  of  the  divide,  and  when 
they  whirled  around  the  corner  and  drew  rein  before  the 
gate,  they  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief ;  and  the  bays  were 
white  with  foam.  It  happened,  but  just  how  it  happened 
Freck  never  knew;  but  when  he  was  helping  Mary  from 
the  wagon,  she  set  her  foot  on  the  wheel  and  fell,  but  she 
fell  right  into  Freck's  arms.  And  Freck  was  so  overjoyed 
that  they  had  not  been  murdered  and  robbed  that  he  gave 
Mary  one  mighty  tight  squeeze.  A  few  days  thereafter 
they  returned  to  the  mill  in  the  dark,  shady  woods,  Freck 
driving  four  mules  and  Mary  driving  the  bay  mares. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

The  years  drove  right  on,  and  didn't  lay  over  on  Sun- 
day; and  as  they  passed  they  threw  off  toil  and  care  and 
disappointment  and  losses,  and  also  gladness  and  sunshine, 
and  the  sons  and  daughters  of  men  gathered  up  the  sun- 
shine and  the  gladness  and  laid  them  up  in  the  storehouse 
of  memory. 

Freck  sold  out  and  moved  three  counties  farther  north, 
and  opened  up  a  new  farm  in  the  Willow  Valley.  Freck 
was  still  in  the  whirlpool  of  this  world's  affairs,  and  one 
fall  he  filled  his  pens  with  steers  and  hogs,  and  when  he 
had  fed  ten  thousand  bushels  of  corn,  and  the  hogs  weighed 
three  hundred  pounds  each  and  were  worth  six  cents  a 
pound,  the  cholera  came  along,  and  in  twenty  days  one 
hundred  and  seventy  had  died:  a  loss  of  more  than  three 
thousand  dollars.  And  there  was  a  financial  panic,  and 
fat  steers  slumped  from  seven  to  five  cents  a  pound,  caus- 
ing Freck  a  loss  of  twenty-five  hundred  dollars.  Freck 
sold  his  farm  and  his  stock  cattle,  a  hundred  head;  and 
never  again  did  he  sing:  "The  farmer's  life  is  the  life 
for  me." 

Tn  his  despondency  a  voice  whispered :     "Freck,  it  is 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  153 

better  farther  on."  And  on  the  tenth  of  May  the  mules 
were  harnessed  to  the  wagons,,  and  handing  the  reins  over 
one  four-mule  team  to  Will,  who  had  just  passed  the  six- 
teenth milepost,  they  pulled  out  for  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
to  seek  out  and  build  a  home  on  the  western  frontier. 
Crossing  the  Missouri  River  above  Big  Xettle  Bend,  the 
old  logging-camp,  in  the  midst  of  a  fearful  storm,  which 
sent  the  waves  rolling  over  the  sides  of  the  flatboat  and 
made  the  mules  rear  and  plunge,  they  drove  out  onto 
Davis  Creek.  Here  they  joined  company  with  Press  and 
Margaret,  Steve  and  Belle,  the  Father  and  the  Mother, 
Jim,  and  others — in  all,  fifty-one  persons,  great  and  small, 
and  fifty-four  mule?  and  horses,  eighteen  wagons,  and  a 
hunch  of  cattle.  And  with  Freck  leading  the  caravan,  they 
started  out  to  find  a  home  on  the  western  frontier. 

Crossing  the  Logan  and  the  Elkhorn  rivers,  they 
pulled  over  onto  the  Platte  River,  and  following  up  the 
Platte  a  hundred  miles,  they  went  into  camp  for  the  Sun- 
day ;  for  they  did  not  travel  on  Sunday.  Next  day  the 
few  settlers  were  galloping  around  in  a  state  of  excite- 
ment, and  armed  with  guns ;  and  upon  inquiry  they  learned 
that  the  day  before  a  homesteader  had  been  burned  at  the 
stake  by  the  cattle  men,  because  he  had  settled  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  cattle  range,  and  was  too  stubborn  to  leave  the 
country  when  ordered  to  do  so.  "Deeming  it  more  safe, 
they  crossed  to  the  south  side  of  the  river  and  came  into 
the  Old  Mormon  Trail.  Day  after  day  they  drove  up  along 
the  banks  of  the  Platte,  following  the  footprints  of  the 
Saints,  and  like  the  Saints,  not  knowing  wheresoever  they 
were  going;  but  thev,  like  the  Saints,  had  a  living  hope 
that  they  would  find  a  home  on  the  western  frontier. 

They  followed  the  Old  Mormon  Trail  for  three  hun- 
dred miles  without  a  human  habitation ;  and  they  went  into 
camp  over  Sunday  at  the  old  Mormon  crossing  Of  the 
Platte.  Here  the  trail  leaves  the  Platte  and  winds  away 
over  the  hills  toward  the  Briar  River.  The  banks  were 
strewn  with  broken  wagons  and  kettles,  and  the  iron  posts, 
the  anchors  for  the  little  flatboat  that  the  Mormons  car- 
ried with  them,  were  still  standing.  As  Freck  lay  in  his 
wagon  on  the  Sunday,  watching  the  white  clouds  floating 
awav  off  down  the  valley,  and  the  wind  flapping  the  wagon 
cover,  and  the  river  gurgling  and  murmuring  as  it  passed 
on  to  the  sea,  his  thoughts  were  dwelling  on  Marv  and  the 


154  IvKMIXISCEXCES    OF    PlOXEER    LlFE 

babies  and  a  home  on  the  western  frontier.  And  closing 
his  eyes,  Freck,  in  a  reverie,,  saw  the  Saints  assembled  here, 
men,,  women.,  and  children,  being  jostled  and  crowded  onto 
the  little  flatboat  and  ferried,  load  after  load,  over  the 
river;  and  he  heard  the  shouting  as  the  cattle,  the  horses, 
and  the  sheep  were  driven  into  the  river;  and  he  saw  their 
heads  above  the  water,  and  their  eyes  wild  with  fright,  as 
they  swam  for  the  other  shore ;  and  he  saw  the  long  train  of 
covered  wagons  disappearing  over  the  hills  toward  Briar 
River,  and  in  the  rear  of  the  wagons  a  long  train  of  push- 
carts, filled  with  bundles  and  babies,  and  pushed  day  after 
clay  and  week  after  week  by  weary  and  worn  mothers,  on 
their  way  to  the  city  of  Zion,  where  they  believed  they 
would  enter  into  tranquil  rest  for  ever  and  for  ever. 

On  Monday  morning  they  left  the  Old  Mormon  Trail 
behind  their  backs,  and  to  Freck  it  was  the  parting  of  old 
friends,  for  he  had  been  traveling  for  three  hundred  miles 
with  the  Saints.  There  were  many  sunken  graves  by  the 
wayside,  and  Freck,  in  his  mind,  had  been  present  at  the 
burial.  Tie  saw  the  death-flag  raised  over  this  wagon,  and 
the  watchman  gallops  to  the  front,  and  the  grave-diggers 
in  great  haste  dig  a  hole  in  the  ground,  and  when  the 
crape-marked  wagon  comes;  up,  the  signal  is  given  and  the 
oxen  come  to  a  standstill,  and  a  tiny  box  is  carried  out; 
at  the  sound  of  the  first  clods  the  mother  is  hurried  into 
the  wagon,  the  signal  is  given,  the  drivers  shout  to  their 
oxon,  and  the  wheels  begin  to  grind  through  the  sand  :  ami 
baby  is  loft  by  the  side  of  the  Old  Mormon  Trail.  And  to 
this  open  grave  is  carried  a  delicate  little  woman,  a  true, 
loving,  and  faithful  wife  and  a  kind  and  prudent  mother, 
who  had  put  up  an  earnest  womanly  fight  against  polvsr- 
}imy,  but  had  lost,  and  had  lost  all  incentive.  In  longer 
live.  And  with  a  great  ache  in  her  heart  she  closed  her 
PVP.P  in  death,  with  the  bitter  knowledge  that  the  husband 
of  her  girlhood  would  bo  comforted  and  his  woundod  heart 
healed  by  iho  ministrations  of  the  younger  and  fresher 
throo;  and  that  slip  would  never  reach  iho  citv  of  Zion.  but 
would  bo  lofi  alono.  in  an  unmarked  grave,  bv  the  sido  of 
the  Old  Mormon  Trail.  And  in  this  grave  Frock,  in  his 
iniml.  hiiriofl  a  tall.  -pan1,  bony  woman,  with  a  grim  and 
determined  hain't  of  countenance,  who  had  served  wirn  rig- 
or a  hard  and  exacting  husband,  and  who.  for  the  promise 
of  being  a  queen  and  having  ns  many  servants  to  servo  her 


Ill  KM  i.\  i.-  IE   1'ioNi  i  i;   l.iii.  155 

*'in  tin.1  world  to  come,"  had  with  savage  determination  di- 
vided her  huslmnd  with  six  others. 

Slowly,  step  by  step  and  day  by  day.  leaving  a  cloud 

3and  dust,  floating  on  the  hot  and  sultry  air.  marking 
tlie  windings  of  the  trail  far  to  the  rear,  and.  not  a  human 
habitation  ID  sight,  with  the  mothers  singing  hyiniis,  the 
children  shouting  in  gleel'idiies^.  and  the  men  in  different 
wax-  persuading  tlie  mules  to  he  good,  the  long  line  of 
wagons  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
They  went  into  camp  for  a  day  at  IVnver,  away  out  on  tin- 
plains,  a  lialf-mile  hevond  where  the  Capitol  building  now 
stands:  and  they  camped  over  Sunday  at  Colorado  Spring. 
Monday  morning  wagons  were  unloaded,  and  leaving  the 
boy?  to  herd  tlie  stock  on  the  ground  where  now  stands  the 
man-inns  of  tlie  millionaires  in  the  Xorth  End,  they  drove 
through  the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  and  climbed  the  Buttes, 
and  scratched  their  names  on  the  rocks,  and  drank  from 
the  iron  and  the  soda  springs  at  Manitou,,  which  were 
reached  hv  stopping-stones  across  the  miry  margin.  They 
continued  on  their  way  to  the  southward,  winding  around 
the  base  of  Pike's  Peak  and  Cheyenne  Mountain,  driving 
over  the  wild  mew  where  now  stands  the  great  summer 

rt  and  club-house,  the  Casino.  And  they  camped  on 
Little  Rocky,  near  Bob  Womack's  cattle  ranch;  the  same 
Bob  Womack  who  discovered  the  first  gold-mine  on  Crip- 
ple Creek. 

Crossing  Big  Rocky,  they  pulled  up  Dead  Man's 
Canyon,  where  a  lone  grave  on  the  side  of  the  mountain 
marks  the  last  camping-ground  of  an  early  pioneer,  who 
went  forth  to  seek  and  build  a  home,  and  found  a  grave 
on  the  western  frontier.  And  the  hand  of  a  true  friend. 
that  his  name  might  not  perish  from  the  earth,  had  rudelv 
chiseled  on  a  rough  stone  the  inscription: 

"II.  HASKFXS. 
MURDERED. 
March  31. 

1861." 

H.  Raskins  was.  chopping  wood  in  front  of  his  cabin  door, 
and  some  straggling  Mexicans  came  riding  down  the  trail : 
when  within  a  few  yards,  they  raised  their  guns  and  fired. 
and  H.  Ha  skins,  the  pioneer,  fell  dead,  and  the  Mexican- 
galloped  away.  The  boy  who  a  few  minutes  before  had 


156  EEMINISOENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

gone  to  look  after  the  oxen  witnessed  the  shooting  from  a 
near-by  hill,  and  hastened  back ;  but  Haskins  was  dead.  The- 
Mexicans  passed  around  the  base  of  Pike's  Peak  and  up  the 
Ute  Pass  (for  there  was  no  Colorado  Springs  nor  Man- 
itou  in  those  days),  and  they  met  a  man  driving'  a  yoke  of 
oxen,  and  they  shot  the  man  and  one  of  his  oxen,  and  they 
roasted  a  supper  from  the  ox.  A  daring  pioneer  struck  their 
trail  and  followed  on  and  on,  until  away  up  in  the  moun- 
tains, near  the  head  of  the  Platte,  he  overtook  them :  and; 
he  kept  in  hiding,  following  after,  until  one  night  while 
they  slept,  and  a  storm  was  blowing,  he  crept  up  and  cut 
the  leader's  head  off,  and  fetched  it  back  with  him. 

And  there  was  Jimmy's  camp.  Jimmy,  with  his  oxen, 
lived  out  on  the  plains,  where  the  grass  was  good.  And  a 
band  of  Mexicans  ran  up  against  Jimmy's  camp,  and  they 
drove  off  Jimmy's  oxen,  after  they  had  killed  Jimmy  and: 
burned  his  camp.  A  passing  horseman  discovered  the  deact 
Jimmv,  and  the  few  scattering:  settlers  planted  Jimmy. 
The  Mexicans  were  pursued  and  overtaken,  camped  in  the 
woods  and  feasting  on  Jimmy's  oxen ;  and  the  ox-chains 
were  looped  around  their  necks  and  they  were  boosted  up 
out  of  reach  of  the  wolves.  And  every  man  returned  to  his 
own  camp. 

Mr.  bobbins  was  an  early  pioneer  in  the  Fountain 
Yallev.  His  little  son  was  herding  the  cattle  on  his  pony, 
when  from  a  near-by  gulch  a  band  of  Indians  rushed  out; 
the  little  boy  put  up  a  desperate  race  for  his  life,  but  the 
Indians  overtook  him  and  murdered  him  in  the  sight  of 
his  mother,  and  with  a  war-whoop  galloped  away 

The  old  pioneers  are  passing:  away.  But  few  remain 
who  took  part  in  the  conflict  with  these  blood-thirstv  en- 
emies on  the  frontier.  Soon  there  will  be  no  one  left  who 
took  a  part  to  tell  the  story  of  the  hardships  and  the  suf- 
ferings; of  the  cabin  homes  burned  and  whole  families  mur- 
dered; of  the  days  and  nights  passed  in  hiding  from  the 
Indians  who  were  watching  and  hoping  that  they  would 
come  from  under  cover;  of  the  brave  and  indomitable  wo- 
men who  stood,  gun.  in  hand,  by  the  side  of  their  husbands, 
to  guard  and  to  die  for  their  children.  The  passing  of 
these  men  and  women,  who,  with  ox  team,  axe,  and  gun, 
went  forth  to  conquer  the  wilderness,  has  a  pathetic  inter- 
est and  touches  the  heart  and  fills  it  with  reminiscent  ten- 
der compassion;  but  one  by  one  they  are  passing  over. 

To  the  writer  it  seems  but  yesterday  that  he  stood  by 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  157 

the  gate  of  his  boyhood  cabin  home  and  watched  the  long 
trains  of  the  "Forty-niners"  passing  day  after  day;  but 
Time,  with  his  cruel  shears,  has  clipped  oft  more  than  three 
•score  years  and  cast  them  into  the  eternity  of  the  past. 
At  this  time  the  country  west  of  the  Mississippi  was  almost 
unsettled;  not  a  mile  of  railroad  west  of  the  river.  But 
•history  is  made  rapidly  in  the  West.  Measured  in  years, 
the  pioneer  days  are  not  far1  back;  but  I  have  seen  the  fron- 
tier grow  from  a  few  cabins  along  the  timber  belts  to  a 
crowded  mighty  empire.  But  where  are  the  old  pioneers 
that  blazed  the" way?  They  sleep  in  unmarked  graves,  or 
•their  names  are  recorded  in  the  citv  of  the  dead. 


CHAPTER  XLIIL 

The  mules  kept  cutting  oft  a  step  at  a  time  from  th? 
front  and  pushing  it  to  the  rear  of  the  trail,  and  the  wind 
kept  on  flapping  the  wagon  covers,  and  the  women  kept 
on  singing  hymns,  and  the  children  shouted  in  gladness, 
and  the  men,  two  and  two,  stood  guard  at  night  And  the 
sand-storms  swirled  the  sand  into  the  gravy  and  into  the 
batter,  and  the  ashes  into  the  face  and  into  the  coffee;  and 
the  hands  were  blackened,  and  the  faces  were  grimy,  and 
the  garments  were  travel-stained.  But  all  these  things 
were  accounted  as  nothing  because  of  the  living  hope  of 
finding  a  home  on  the  western  frontier. 

They  climbed  the  mountains  two  miles  above  the  sea, 
«nd  went  into  camp  together  for  the  last  time.  A  thous- 
and miles  had  been  measured  off,  step  by  step,  bv  the  stub- 
horn  mules,  and  not  a  fatal  accident,  save  one  dog  bitten 
by  a  rattlesnake.  There  were  kind  and  tender  good-byes, 
•and  hands  grasped  hands  for  the  last  time;  and  the  com- 
pany broke  up  into  groups,  and  each  started  out  alone^ 
Different  ways,  and  manv  met  no  more  for  ever. 

Jim,  Press,  and  Freck  placed  the  machinery  in  posi- 
tion, for  they  had  fetched  along  a  steam  paw-mill,  and  soon 
the  big  sugar-pine  trees  were  converted  into  lumber.  In 
the  fall  Freck  received  a  letter  from  Mary,  saying: 
"Robert,  build  a  cabin  and  send  for  me."  Freck  built  his 
first  cabin  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  in.  Oak  Creek  Canyon ; 
and  while  the  railroad  was  building  to  the  West,  Freck 
wrote,  saying:  "Mary,  the  cabin's  builded:  comt  on,  and 


158  EEMIXISCEXCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

the  mules  and  I  will  meet  yon  at  the  end  of  the  track."" 
And  when  the  train  shrieked  a  long  shriek  and  plowed  up, 
and  crept  up  to  the  end  of  the  rails  and  stopped,  the  mules 
and  Freck  were  waiting.  The  crowd  poured  down  the 
steps,  and  in  an  expectant  tremble  Freck  stood  near  and 
watched  the  faces;  and  when  he  saw  Mary  and  the  babies, 
his  heart  acted  a  little  unruly;  but  he  guarded  the  fountain 
at  the  low  places.  Away  out  on  the  wind-swept,  sand- 
drifted^  cactus-grown,  barren  plains,  at  the  end  of  the  rail- 
road, on  the  western  frontier,  Mary  and  Freck  stood  look- 
ing into  each  other's  eyes;  and  their  hearts  were  bubbling 
over  with  gladness,  for  they  had  each  other  and  all  their 
babies — not  one  missing;  for  to  Freck  and  Mary  they  were 
still  their  "babies." 

The  great  mining  boom  was  OP,  and  men  climbed  the 
mountains,  and  waded  the  cold  streams  and  panned  dirt 
from  the  bottom ;  and  in  a  state  of  excitement  they  ran 
to  and  fro,  and  slept  on  the  dumps  with  guns  to  ward  off 
the  claim-jumper.  And  the  face  of  the  earth  was  digged 
full  of  prospect-holes.  Saloons  were  planted  along  the 
trails,  and  dead  mules  snaked  into  the  springs,  and  men 
had  to  drink  beer.  Tn  two  blocks  on  Cliff  Street  there  were 
a  dozen  saloons  and  dance-halls  and  gambling-hells,  and 
the  doors  were  shut  neither  by  day  nor  by  night;  and  the 
air  was  polluted  with  the  fumes  of  whiskey  and  stale  beer 
sprinkled  on  the  sidewalk.  The  "steerer"  stood  by  the  open 
door  and  called  :  "Faro  !  Faro  !  Faro  to-night !"  An  3 
ihe  click  of  the  gambling  device  was  heard,  and  the  "Cap- 
per" won  hand fnls  of  money,  and  others  went  in  and  lost. 
Tho.  jingling  piano,  the  tortured  organ,  the  screech  of  the 
fiddle,  the  shout  of  the  caller,  the  pounding  of  dancing  feet, 
and  the  jingling  of  glasses  rolled  out  through  the  curtain- 
loss  doors  and  windows;  and  the  Devil's  revival-meetings 
were  going  the  pace,  and  the  Devil's  ladv  mission-workers 
|M>rsnadcd  manv  to  come  to  the  Devil's  love-feast. 

Ben  and  Dick  (there  were  a  good  many  Bens  and 
Dicks)  were  partners,  and  they  spent  the  davi-  digging 
holes  in  the  ground  and  panning  dirt  from  the  bottom  of 
the  streams,  and  they  lived  in  a  little  tent,  and  fried  their 
bacon  and  flapjacks,  and  slept  under  the  same  blankets. 
And  they  began  to  spend  the  nights  in  the  dance-halT 
saloons,  and  they  thought  pure  that  they  were  having  the 
time  of  their  lives;  and  they  both  fell  down  over  the  same 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  159 

bleary  eyes  and  paint-daubed  face,  and  they  quarreled, 
and  Ben  shot  Dick;  and  Ben  gave  a  couple  of  "moppers" 
(sons  of  Satan,  who  hang  around  the  saloons  and  mop 
the  floors  and  do  any  kind  of  hellish  work  for  the  whiskey 
they  can  drink),  a  couple  of  dollars  to  plant  his  old  friend 
Dick.  And  no  one  cared  for  these  things;  we  didn't  have 
the  time,  and  it  wasn't  any  of  our  business  anyway. 

Old  Moccasin  Jack  lived  in  a  cabin  in  the  thick  pine 
woods  at  thei  foot  of  the  Sangre-  de  Cristo  Eange;  and  old 
Jack  didn't  go  around  much  in  daylight  any  more.  Old 
Jack  had  a  wife,  a  tall,  slender,  silvery-haired,,  stoop- 
shouldered  woman,  with  sad,  tender,  pleading  eyes;  and 
Old  Jack  had  led  her  along  a  mighty  crooked  path  for  a 
mighty  long  time,  but,  nevertheless,  she  had  stayed  with 
him,  and  she  had  clung  to  and  fetched  along  over  the  trail 
a  whole  lot  of  womanly  womanliness.  The  hot  branding- 
iron  of  sorrow,  hardship,  and  heartache  had  been  used  until 
there  was  no  place  to  brand  any  more.  They  had  a  daugh- 
ter, Hazel  (and  her  name  wasn't  Hazel),  twenty  years  old, 
the  only  one  of  seven  left  by  the  black  angel  of  death ;  and 
Hazel's  mother  loved  her  with  all  of  the  mother  love  God 
had  given  her  for  seven.  Hazel  was  a  slender  brunette, 
with  her  mother's  sad,  tender,  pleading,  dark  eyes,  and  she 
knew  more  about  the  mountain  birds,  the  squirrels,  the 
deer,  and  the  antelope  than  the  spelling-book.  Hazel  lived 
the  life  of  a  nun,  because  her  mother  was  her  guardian 
angel. 

One  night,  in  the  midst  of  a  fierce  mounta:n  storm, 
there  was  a  knock  on  Old  Jack's  cabin  door,  and  Old  Jack 
snatched  his  gun,  and  from  a  dark-  corner  he  called: 
"Come  in."  A  stranger  crossed  the  threshold;  and  Old 
Jack  poked  his  gun  into  his  face  and  commanded  :  "Hands 
up !"  And  the  stranger  was  wise.  "Now,  who  are  you, 
and  what  are  you  here  for  ?"  "I  'm  a  prospector,  and  lost 
in  the  storm."  "You're  a  magnificent  liar;  you're  a  de- 
tective." De-tective  f  Ha-dez !  Them  's  the  people  I  'm 
a-dodgin'.  Search  me,  and  if  you  don't  find  the  evidence 
that  I  'm  a  road  agent,  then  shoot."  A  "road  agent"  is  a 
highway  robber  who  "holds  up"  the  mountain  stages  and 
"goes  through"  the  mail  and  the  passengers.  The  evidence 
was  found,  but  Old  Jack  was  as  wise  as  a  serpent  and  took 
possession  of  his  two  guns.  And  when  the  storm  abated, 
Old  Jack  handed  him  hi*  guns  and  belt,  remarking: 


160  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

"Don't  hurry  any  to  load  your  guns.  Savey  ?"  ("Do  you 
understand?")  "I  savey."  They  shook  hands,  and  the 
stranger  started  off  down  the  trail,  with  his  face  toward 
Mexico. 

CHAPTER  XLTV. 

Old  Man  Boyal  was  a  pioneer  from  Missouri,  and  he 
fetched  along  a  drove  of  cattle  and  some  mules,  and  Budd 
and  Zeph,  his  two  sons,  and  their  wives  and  old  Mrs.  Boyal. 
They  settled  away  out  on  the  plains,  and  he  built  a  stone 
house  and  covered  it  with  dirt,  because  the  Indians  couldn't 
set  a  stone  house  covered  with  dirt  afire  with  their  burning 
arrows.  Zeph  took  the  mining  fever,  and  he  left  his  wife, 
a  good  and  true  woman,  but  not  very  pretty,  in  a  cabin 
away  out  on  the  plains,  and  came  up  into  the  mountains  to 
locate  a  mine.  Zeph  camped  by  Old  Jack's  spring,  and 
here  he  met  Hazel.  Zeph  was  a  tall,  handsome  fellow,  and 
he  forgot  all  about  his  wife,  a  good  and  true  woman,  but 
not  very  pretty,  away  down  on  the  plains.  And  Zeph 
prayed  to  Hazel,  and,  like  all  tall,  handsome  fellows,  he 
could  put  up  a  mighty  touching  prayer  to  a  young  and 
innocent  woman.  Hazel  was  young  and  innocent  and 
twenty,  and  had  never  heard  a  tall,  handsome  fellow  pray, 
because  her  mother  was  her  guardian  angel.  Zeph,  like 
almost  all  tall,  handsome  fellows  and  almost  all  short, 
homely  fellows,  was  bad  at  heart  and  a  moral  coward,  and 
he  did  not  dare  to  look  into  the  sorrowful,  pleading  eyes 
of  Hazel's  mother  and  pray,  but  he  prayed  to  Old  Jack. 
Now,  Old  Jack  loved  Hazel  with  all  the  fatherly  love  left 
in  his  wicked  and  bad  old  heart,  and  he  said:  "Zeph,  if 
you  can  make  Hazel  your  wife  in  the  full  meaning  of  the 
word,  I  have  no  objections,  for  Hazel  can't  live  this  way  al- 
ways ;  but  if  I  find  you  crooked  with  Hazel  in  the  littlest 

/it,  I'll,  kill  you  before  the  sun  goes  down.  Savey?"  Now. 
Zeph  had  lied  to  Hazel  and  he  had  lied  to  Old  Jack,  for  ho 
said,  "T  'm  a  single  man,"  and  Zeph  knew  danged  well  Old 
Jack  would  make  ^ood  the  killing.  So  he  hastened  to  a 
jack  lawyer,  and  the  jack  lawyer  said:  "Yes;  bring  your 

witness,  and  T  will  do  the  rest  for  fiftv  dollars."  Zeph 
went  down  to  a  dance-hall  saloon  and  said  to  a  "mopper": 
<fl  want  a  witness,  and  I  have  five  dollars  for  him."  And 
the  "mopper,"  the  child  of  Hell,  took  the  witness-stand  and 


KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  161 

swore:  "Yes,  I'm  the  man."  And  Zeph  walked  away  a 
single  man.  Zeph's  wife  harnessed  the  mules,  which  her 
father  had  given  her,  and  with  her  two  babies  pulled  out 
for  her  father's  house,  a  thousand  miles  away,  in  old  Mis- 
souri. Hazel's  mother,  having  no  longer  a  guardian 
angel's  commission,  and  bearing  the  brands  that  Paul  bore 
(Galatians  vi.  17),  died,  and  was  buried  among  the  pines 
at  the  foot  of  the  Sangre  de  Cristo  Mountains. 

After  two  years,  Press  and  Margaret,  and  Steve  and 
Belle,  and  the  Father  and  the  Mother,  and  Jim  returned 
over  the  old  trail  to  the  old  home,  and  Steve  and  Belle  laid 
their  baby  boy  away  by  the  side  of  the  old  trail.  In  due 
time  they  arrived  at  the  old  home.  The  years  went  rolling 
on,  and  the  Father  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  little  graveyard 
on  the  once  bleak  prairie.  And  the  years  kept  on  sinking 
to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  of  eternity,  and  the  Mother,  after 
battling  with  the  storms,  the  hardships,  and  the  priva- 
tions of  pioneer  life  for  one  hundred  years,  two  months, 
and  twenty-three  days,  fell  asleep  in  Jesus  and  was  laid 
by  the  side  of  the  Father.  And  Belle,  the  wee  curly-headed 
baby  girl  that  the  Mother  carried  in  her  arms  from  the 
deck  of  the  Red  Wing,  and  who  had  spent  all  of  her  life 
contending  against  the  hard  conditions  encountered  on  the 
western  frontier,  laid  aside  her  armor  and  surrendered  to 
the  last  enenvy,  the  black  angel  of  death,  and  was  laid  by 
the  side  of  her  three  children  and  the  Father  and  the 
Mother.  And  three  years  latter  Steve  was  laid  by  her  side. 
And  when  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven,  with  the  angels  of  His  might,  and  shall  call  His 
sleeping  saints,  there  will  be  a  glad  meeting  in  the  little 
graveyard  on  the  once  bleak  prairie.  And  the  years  went 
rolling  on,  rolling  on,  and  the  black  angel  of  death  found 
Press,  away  out  on  the  western  frontier,  and  without  an 
hour's  warning,  cut  him  down  in  the  full  strength  of  his 
manhood. 

Freck  and  Mary  remained  in  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  Freck  took  the  mining  fever,  and  he  lost  his  head  and 
went  plumb  crazy.  He  spent  his  money  digging  in  the 
ground,  and  he  "grub-staked"  men,  and  bought  them  burros 
and  blankets,  and  gave  them  money,  and  sent  them  into  the 
Elk  Mountains  to  prospect  on  the  halves,  and  he  never 
again  heard  from  his  men;  and  when  his  money  was  all 
in.  he  traded  his  mules  for  holes  in  the  ground.  Yes, 


162 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


Freck,  like  thousands  of  others,  surely  lost  his  head  over 
holes  in  the  ground,  which  were  called  "mines."  In  the 
process  of  time  Mary  and  Freck's  babies  all  married,  ex- 
cept their  "baby  boy'*  and  Florence,  the  sweet  little  baby  girl 
who  was  born  in  the  dark,  shady  woods  while  the  cannon 
down  in  the  South-land  belched  forth  fires  of  death  and  a 
loaded  musket  stood  by  the  bedside.  For  twenty  years 
Freck  trailed  over  the  ranges,  and  up  and  down  the  canyons 


FRBCK  AT  65. 


and  the  gulches,  at  times  working  for  a  "grub-stake."  and 
again  digging  holes  in  the  ground  and  panning  dirt  by 
the  streams,  and  living  in  cabins  and  tents  and  covered 
wagons.  And  Mary  stayed  with  Freck  through  all  these 
long  and  weary  years,  and  shared  his  discouragements,  his 
failures,  his  hopes,  his  cabins,  his  tents,  and  his  covered- 
wagon  homes  in  the  Eocky  Mountains.  And  in  the  even- 
ings, while  the  mountain  wind  sobbed  and  moaned  in  the 
pines  or  shivered  through  the  aspen  groves,  with  a  miner's 
glass  they  would  examine  the  bits  of  rock  and  be  almost 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  163 

persuaded  that  the  hidden  treasure  \vas  almost  within  their 
grasp.  From  the  far  north  to  the  far  south  end  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  thousands  of  men  were  doing  as  Freck 
was  doing,  and  meeting  with  the  same  disappointments; 
and  many  grew  discouraged  and  reckless,  and  became  dis- 
solute gamblers  and  drunkards,  and  went  to  the  dogs. 
But  during  all  these  years  Freck  never  stood  at  the  bar  and 
drank  a  glass  of  whiskey,  nor  played  a  game  of  cards,  nor 


MARY,  PAST  65 

crossed  the  threshold  of  a  dance-hall;  no,  thank  God!  not 
once;  because  Mary  stayed  with  him  and  was  his  guardian 
angel. 

For  three  years  Freck  worked  in  a  lumbering-camp  in 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  dug  no  holes  in  the  ground,  and 
had  gotten  together  fifteen  hundred  dollars  in  gold  and 
three  teams;  for  Freck  and  "Mary  worked  with  their  might 
and  early  and  late. 

Then  they,  by  a  schemer,  were  induced  to  turn  their 
faces  to  the  south  and  take  up  land  under  the  great  Toas 


164  REMINISCENCES  OE  PIONEER  LIFE 

Valley  Canal  in  Xevv  Mexico,  and  build  homes  on  the  fron- 
tier. They  crossed  the  Sangre  de  Cristo  Eange  at  Moscow 
Pass,  and  in  time  went  into  camp  in  snn-biistered  Xew 
Mexico.  Freck  took  a  contract  to  dig  a  section  of  the  big 
ditch  by  the  yard,  payment  to  be  made  each  month ;  and  he 
employed  a  lot  of  Mexicans.  The  hot  Mexican  sun  baked 
the  ground  and  blistered  the  men  and  vexed  the  mules, 
and  water  was  hauled  away  out  on  the  sun-dried  plains  for 
men  and  mules.  The  combined  efforts  of  six  mules  and 
three  Mexicans  induced  the  great  plow  to  move  forward 
among  the  stones,  and  the  scrapers  and  the  picks  and 
shovels  followed;  and  the  alkali  dust  arose  in  a  dense  cloud 
and  ate  the  eyes  and  the  nostrils  of  the  men  and  the  mules. 
And  on  pay-day  there  was  smooth  talk,  but  no  money;  and 
Freck  kept  right  on  paying  the  Mexicans  in  gold,  earned 
in  the  lumber-camp.  After  many  months,  some  of  the  big- 
promoters  came  out  from  Saint  Louis;  and  their  engineer 
measured  the  work,  and  Freck  had  two  thousand  and  two 
hundred  dollars  coming  to  him.  And  there  were  others. 
A  Mexican  contractor  and  his  men  were  waiting  for  their 
money,  and  they  were  in  an  ugly  temper.  A  promoter 
called :  "Men,  you  shall  have  your  money  by  ten  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning.  1 'm  going  to  the  express  office  to 
fetch  it."  And  he  drove  away. 

On  the  morrow  all  were  waiting ;  and  a  promoter  came 
to  the  office  door  and  in  an  insolent  manner  called :  "No  use 
you  fellows  waiting  around  here.  Wagner  didn't  go  away 
to  come  back/'  And  he  shut  and  locked  the  door.  When 
the  Mexicans  understood  it,  there  was  a  howl  of  rage,  and 
they  ran  to  the  tent  and  fetched  a  rope,  and  handing  it  to 
Freck,  said:  "You  mucho  bueno  ami-go!'  ("You  much 
good  friend.")  "You  tie,  we  pnllee."  Because  Freck  had 
paid  his  Mexicans,  he  was  "muclw  bueno  amigo'3  and  ev- 
ery Mexican  was  his  "ami^o";  for  they  are  much  like  chil- 
dren, easily  pleased  and  quickly  enraged.  And  the  Devil 
whispered:  "Freck,  you  mv.rJio  bueno  ami  go.  You  tie,  wo 
pullee."  And  Freck  gritted  Iris  teeth  and  said:  "Danged 
if  I  don't!"  And  he  gave  tli?  door  a  vicious  kick  and  de- 
manded :  "Open  the  door."  A  voice  inquired  :  "Are  the 
Mexicans  at  your  heels?"  "They  are  not.  Open  the  door." 
The  kov  turned,  and  Freck  scrouged  in,  turned  the  key, 
and  puf  in  in  his  pocket.  Xow  Freck  never  could  say  what 
he  wanted  to  say  at  the  time  he  wanted  to  say  it,  but  he 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  165 

started  in  and  said  all  lie  could  think  of  at  the  time,  and 
closed  by  saying:  k'I  will  turn  the  key  and  the  rope  over 
to  the  Mexicans.'5  And  the  three  began  to  promise  and  to 
plead:  "We  will  send  your  money  as  soon  as  we  reach 
Saint  Louis."  "You  are  all  sons  of  Belial;  you  will  do 
nothing  of  the  kind."  And  they  pleaded:  "For  the  sake 
of  our  wives  and  our  babies,  don't  turn  us  over  to  those 
howling  Mexicans."  And  when  they  put  it  up  to  the 
babies,  Freck  fell  down. 

He  went  out,  turned  the  key  and  slipped  it  in  his 
pocket,  and  called:  "Amigos!  Amigos!  Vamos  casa.  He 
pay  manana"  ("Friends !  Friends !  Go  home.  He  pay 
to-morrow.")  "He  mucho  lie.  He  no  pay.  You  muclio 
bueno  amigo.  You  tie,  we  pnllee."  And  all  the  afternoon 
Freck  moodily  thought  of  the  gold  paid  out,  and  looking 
upon  his  lean  and  jaded  mules,  he  forgot  all  about  the 
babies.  And  he  gritted  his  teeth  and  said  to  himself: 
"Dang  'em !  they  deserve  hanging."  And  the  Devil  over- 
heard him  and  gave  him  an  encouraging  smile. 

At  supper  Freck  was  moody,  hateful,  and  snappish, 
and  he  growled:  "I  'm  going  up  and  give  the  key  and  the 
rope  to  the  Mexicans."  And  Mary  said:  "Robert,  don't 
do  it.  If  you  get  one  drop  of  blood  on  your  hands,  you 
can  never  wash  it  off."  And  Freck  remembered  the  babies, 
and  while  the  Mexicans  were  eating  chilli  con  came,  he 
handed  in  the  key,  saying:  "Save  yourselves  from  the 
Mexicans."  And  they  surely  did. 

Five  years  thereafter  Freck  and  Mary  passed  down  the 
valley,  and  the  great  canal  lay  as  they  left  it.  They  talked 
of  the  golden  dollars,  and  the  lean  and  jaded  mules,  and 
the  Mexicans  pleading:  "You  tie,  we  pullee."  And  Mary 
asked :  "Robert,  aren't  you  glad  there  is  no  blood  on  your 
hands?"  But  Freck  didn't  know  for  sure. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

Freck  and  Mary  and  others  harnessed  the  vexed  mules 
and  turned  their  faces  to  the  north.  They  had  buried  a 
summer's  work  and  twelve  hundred  dollars  in  the  ditch  on 
the  arid  plains  of  New  Mexico.  Slowly  they  wended  their 
way  along  the  trail,  camping  when  the  sun  shut  the  door. 
They  came  to  the  Grand  River,  rushing  through  a  great 


166 


KEMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 


gash  in  the  sun-baked  plain,  and  the  mules  slid  down  the 
steep  bank  on  their  haunches  into  the  seething  ilood.  And 
in  a  rage  the  water  rolled  and  sloshed  into  the  wagons,  and 
lifted  the  mules  off  their  feet,  and  muttered:  "Get  out 
of  our  way,  or  we  will,  as  we  did  the  band  of  Mexicans  and 
their  wives  and  their  babies  and  their  ponies,  send  you  to 
the  bottom  and  cover  you  with  sand."  But  the  mules  were 
taller  and  more  stubborn  than  the  ponies,  and  they  scram- 
bled to  their  feet  and  defiantly  flung  the  water  from  their 
long  ears  into  the  face  of  the  old  river,  and  floundered  on 
and  clambered  up  the  opposite  bank.  And  as  they  circled 


Fl 


OLD  SPOT. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  167 

around  to  go  into  camp,  as  his  custom  was,  Old  Spot  open- 
ed wide  his  mouth  and  raised  the  tune,  and  a  score  of  mule 
voices  joined  in  the  song:  "Ye-haw!  ye-haw!  ye-haw- 
ha\v-ha\v-]ia\v  !"  It  gives  me  pleasure  to  introduce  you  to 
Old  Spot,  for  Old  Spot  was  a  good  mule  ami  was  always 
glad  to  go  into  camp. 

Day  after  day  they  passed  slowly  to  the  northward, 
and  tliev  pulled  up  a  narrow  canyon  and  came  to  some 
(K/uhi's  (huts  built  of  blocks  of  sun-dried  mud)  and  Mex- 
ican men,,  women,  and  children,  and  a  gate  chained  and 
locked.  And  a  Mexican  with  a  gun  in  his  hand  said: 
"Amigo,  pay  diner o."  ("Friend,  pay  money.")  "Me  open 
gate."  And  Freck  asked:  "Amigo,  a  como  vende?" 
("Friend,  how  much?")  "Amigo,  dos  pesos."  ("Friend, 
two  dollars.")  Two  dollars  were  placed  in  his  little  yel- 
low hand,  and  as  we  passed  through  the  gate,  with  a  smile 
we  said:  "Amigo,  muclw  gracias."  ("Friend,  thank  you.'7) 
But,  like  the  old  colored  man  when  praying  for  the  boys 
that  stole  his  water-melons,  "all  de  time  we  wished  de  Deb- 
bie had  'em/3  Often  the  Mexicans  at  night  would  drive  off 
the  camper's  horses,  and  in  vain  would  he  search  for  them. 
And  a  Mexican  would  come  around  and  say:  "How  muclw 
diiirro.  me  fetch  caballos?"  ("How  much  money,  me  fetch 
horses?")  "A  cinco  pesos/'  ("Five  dollars.")  And  away 
he  would  gallop  and  fetch  them  in  to  camp. 

The  mode  of  life  among  the  Mexicans  is  much  like  it 
was  in  the  days  of  Abraham.  Hitched  to  the  plow  is  a 
burro  and  a  pony  or  an  ox  and  a  cow,  with  a  boy  or  a  girl 
on  each  side  to  keep  them  in  the  furrow.  And  at  harvest- 
time  men,  women,  and  children  go  into  the  little  field  with 
the  same  crooked  hand  reaping-hook  that  Joseph's  brethren 
used  when  their  sheaves  bowed  down  to  Joseph's  sheaf. 
And  poles,  in  forks,  are  placed  around  the  threshing-floor, 
to  keep  the  stock  in,  and  ponies  and  burros  and  goa 
turned  in,  and  boys  and  girls  with  sticks  to  keep  the  stock 
going  around  and  around.  And  when  Xatnre  did  not  fur- 
nish the  wind  to  winnow  the  grain,  a  sheet  was  tied  to  two 
poles  and  two  women  flapped  the  sheet  and  winnowed  the 
grain. 

They  passed  through  old  Fort  Garland,  and  passed 
Kit  Carson's  old  home,  and  spoke  a  few  words  to  one  of 
his  sons,  a  half-Mexican,  and  started  in  to  climb  to  the 
top  of  the  range.  They  came  into  the  old  Government 


168  BEMIXISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

Trail,  and  soon  they  were  up  among  the  snow  and  the  ice. 
The  old  trail  was  not  much  used  any  more,,  and  the  narrow 
grade,  winding  around  the  mountains  and  hugging  close 
to  the  points  and  ledges,  and  climbing  higher  and  higher,, 
was  badly  washed  out  and  drifted  full  of  snow  and  ice; 
but  with  great  care,  and  much  chopping  of  ice,  they  passed 
along  on  the  very  edge,  where  to  look  down  made  the  head 
giddy j  and  where,  should  the  wagon  slide  but  a  few  inches,. 
it  would  plunge  down  hundreds  of  feet,  dragging  the 
mules  to  the  bottom.  After  two  days  of  toil  and  danger, 
they  gained  the  summit,  and  on  the  night  of  December  2d 
they  went  into'  camp  on  the  tiptop  of  the  mountain  range, 
more  than  two  miles  high,  and  in  snowr  nearly  three 
feet  deep.  As  they  circled  around  on  the  top  of  the  range 
and,  in  the  deep  snow  Old  Spot  raised  the  tune,  and  a  score 
of  glad  mule  voices  joined  in  the  song:  "Ye-haw  !  ye-haw  1 
ye-haw-haw-haw-haw !" 

The  mules  were  double-blanketed;  and  the  camp-fire 
was  soon  roaring*  and  blazing,  and  the  savory  smell  of  fry- 
ing bacon  and  coffee  and  flapjacks  was  floating  away  over 
the  mountain  peaks  and  down  into  the  gorges  of  La  Yeta 
Pass.  The  Sun  just  turned  dowrn  his  lamp  middling  low, 
and  never  blew  it  out  at  all,  but  used  the  mountains  for 
a  lamp-shade;  and  old  Time  had  dinged  and  battered  the 
edges  of  the  shade,  and  the  light  stole  up  through  and 
painted  the  low-hovering  dome  of  heaven  with  streaks  of 
old  gold,  silver,  vermilion,  and  amber.  And  the  lovely 
and  chaste  Twilight,  pleased  with  the  novelty  of  a  camp 
on  the  tiptop  of  the  range  and  in  snow  three  feet  deep, 
lingered  around  until  the  Sun  rudely  pushed  her  over  the 
ledges,  down  into  the  dark  chasms,  canyons,  and  gorges, 
where  the  mountain  lions,  the  bears,  and  the  bob-cats  de- 
light to  dwell,  and  where  the  Sun  never  shines.  Holes  were 
scooped  out  in  the  snow  and  blankets  were  spread,  and  the 
snow  kindly,  softly,  and  silently  drifted  over  the  beds  and 
shut  out  the  freezing  cold.  And  Freck  and  Mary,  in  their 
-now-drifted  hod,  slept  the  sleep  of  the  worn  and  weary,  and 
dreamed:  "It  is  better  just  over  the  range." 

While  the  Morning  was  1  >ni t ling  wiib  the  Night, 
Freck  and  Mary  came  into  the  elesir.  tingling,  biting  moun- 
tain air.  And  Old  Spot  laughed  his  merry  morning  laugh, 
and  called  for  his  breakfast.  Away  to  the  eastward,  and 
miles  below,  from  a  split  place  in  the  earth  streamers  of 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  Lii'i:  169 

light  shot  up  through  the  darkness,  and  striking  against 
the  dome  of  heaven,  they  spread  out  all  along  the  ceiling 
and  drove  the  darkness  down  closer  to  the  earth.  And  the 
streak  of  light  along  the  sky  luvame  broader  and  brighter, 
blotting  out  the  stars  and  driving  the  darkness  lower  and 
lower;  and  it  beeame  a  surging  g-.'a  of  blackness.  ;md  angry 
waves  were  dashed  at  the  light  to  drive  it  back:  and  ar- 
rows of  light  were  shot  into  the  waves  of  darkness,  and 
they  burst  into  sparkling  gems  of  crystal  light.  And  the 
angels,  looking  down  upon  this  wonderful  battle  and  glori- 
ous victory,  of  the  light  over  the  darkness  at  the  birth  of 
the  Morning,  smiled  with  gladness  and  softly  toiu-bed  their 
harp-strings.  Mary  and  Freck  stood  side  by  side  on  the 
tiptop  of  Sangre  de  Cristo  Mountain  ("Mountain  of  the 
Blood  of  Christ")  and  gazed  in  awe,  tinged  with  fear,  at 
the  batle  of  the  light  with  the  darkness  at  the  birth  of  the 
Morning.  And  they  turned  from  the  scene  that  made  the 
angels  glad,  and  bowed  down  and  took  up  the  toilsome  and 
wearisome  tasks  of  life.  Mary  washed  the  tin  plates  and 
the  frying-pans,  and  Freck  harnessed  the  mules  to  the 
wagon,  and  they  went  forth  to  seek  out  and  build  for  them- 
selves a  home  on  the  western  frontier.  And  never  again, 
on  the  tiptop  of  Sangre  de  Cristo  Mountain,  did  Mary  and 
Freck  stand  side  by  side. 

They  camped  near  a  Mexican  plaza,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Huerfa.no  River;  and  day  after  day  they  followed 
around  the  foot-hills,  buying  supplies  of  the  Mexicans.  In 
time  they  passed  through  Pueblo  and  came  into  the  old 
trail  that  they  went  out  on,  at  the  head  of  Dead  Man's 
Canyon;  and  again  they  halted  by  the  lone  grave  of  the 
pioneer  who  went  forth  and  found  his  long  home  on  the 
mountain-side  on  the  western  frontier.  Following  around 
Pike's  Peak,  they  pulled  up  the  TTte  Pass  into  the  moun- 
tains; and  away  up  toward  the  head  of  the  Platte,  they  set 
up  their  tent  at  Harrv  Buckman's  lumber-camp.  And  Doc- 
tor Wright  persuaded  Florence  to  leave  her  father  and  her 
mother  and  cleave  unto  her  husband.  And  to  Mary  and 
Freck  there  only  remained  their  "haby  boy." 

The  Midland  Railroad  was  being  built  through  the 
mountains,  and  the  mountains  were  full  of  men  and  teams; 
and  four  of  these  men  didn't  like  to  work  on  the  rail- 
road. There  was  a  store  and  a  post-office,  and  the  store- 
keeper took  in  lots  of  money.  These  four  men,  wearing 


170  REMINISCENCES  or  PIONEER  LIFE 

masks,  at  the  close  of  business,  walked  into  the  store  and 
said :  "Hands  up !"  A  helper  didn't  respond  very  quick- 
ly, and  they  batted  him  over  the  head  with  a  revolver;  and 
he  didn't  tie  any  bundles  for  a  long  time.  Pouring  the 
money  into  a  bag,  they  backed  to  the  door ;  and  seeing  Tom 
Bailey  coming  their  way,  they  took  a  shot  at  Tom  and 
plowed  a  ragged  furrow  around  the  side  of  his  head  and 
made  Tom  spin  around  like  a  top.  In  the  morning  Ed 
Bell  and  others  struck  the  trail  and  followed  over  moun- 
tains and  canyons.  Three  got  away  after  the  battle,  but 
Ed  fetched  one  back  to  camp;  for  Ed  was  from  Texas  and 
wasn't  scared  any  at  a  dead  man  behind  the  saddle.  The 
dead  man  was  stretched  on  the  ground  and  an  old  horse- 
blanket  thrown  over  him ;  and  Freck,  and  many  others  who 
had  never  seen  a  dead  robber  shot  in  the  eye,  took  a  good 
look  at  the  man  who  wanted  to  get  money  quickly  and 
easily  yesterday,  but  had  no  use  for  it  to-day.  The  other 
three  were  captured  away  down  on  the  plains  and  sent  to 
prison 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 

A  rumor  came  floating  over  the  mountains  and  the 
canyons  that  Bob  Womack  had  discovered  gold  on  Cripple 
Creek.  Now,  Cripple  Creek  was  a  little  crooked  mountain 
stream,  born  near  Pike's  Peak,  and  Cripple  Creek  was  a 
great  cattle  range,  and  one  would  think  that  being  born 
near  Pike's  Peak  and  in  a  great  cattle  country  was  glory 
enough;  but  the  little  crooked  stream  was  as  ambitious  to 
find  the  way  to  the  sea  as  the  mighty  Mississippi,  and  she 
ran  down  through  the  deep  gorges,  glided  through  the 
cool  aepcn  groves,  timidly  crept  under  the  rock-si i dps  that 
I  lie  mountain  storms  had  shaken  down  in  her  way.  and 
-!ii>l>od  around  the  gold-ledges  of  Battle  Mountain.  Bull 
Hill,  and  Tenderfoot,  and  smiled  over  at  Mount  Pisgah, 
and  kept  on  and  on  till  she  came  to  Four-mile  Creek;  and 
the  bigger  sister  just  swallowed  the  littler  sister,  and  Crip- 
ple Crook  never  found  her  way  to  the  sea  at  all.  The 
limid  little  stream,  after  leaping  and  splashing  over  the 
waterfalls,  gurgling  around  in  the  little  ewirlpools,  and 
<|iionohing  the  thirst  of  the  great  herds  of  cattle,  the  bands 
of  the  free  wild  horses,  the  free  wild  cowboys,  the  deer,  the 
mountain  lions,  tho  boar?,  the  bob-cats,  tho  antelope,  the 


FIRST  House  IN  CRIPPLE  CREEK,  DECEMBER,   1891 
A  CRIPPLE  CREEK  MINE. 


172  KEMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

wolves,  the  jack-rabbits,  tlie  birds,  and  the  squirrels,  left 
her  name  to  the  greatest  gold-camp  on  earth. 

Day  and  night  Freck  heard  a  voice  saying,  "Cripple 
Creek,  Cripple  Creek/'  and  he  and  Jim  Walker  rolled  their 
blankets  and  struck  the  trail.  The  packs  got  heavy  and 
their  feet  got  sore;  but  hope  springs  eternal  in  the  pros- 
pector's breast,  and  he  cares  for  none  of  these  things.  They 
arrived  on  Cripple  Creek,  and  they  started  out  along  diverg- 
ing ways,  but  with  the  same  purpose  in  view.  The  city  of 
Cripple  Creek  did  not  exist,  even  in  the  mind  of  man,  but 
there  were  two  places  of  business  in  the  gulch:  one  was  a 
kind  of  a  pole  pen  covered  with  dirt,  in  which  Pete  Hed- 
dick  kept  some  flour,  tobacco,  bacon,  coffee,  and  canned 
tomatoes;  the  other  was  a  wagon-box  placed  across  a  couple 
of  logs,  in  which  were  whiskey  and  bottled  beer,  and  the 
beer  was  only  one  dollar  a  bottle. 

The  first  night  Freck  fried  his  slice  of  bacon,  brewed 
his  coffee  in  a  tomato-can,  baked  his  flapjack,  and  rolled 
up  in  his  blanket  in  an  aspen  grove  in  Squaw  Gulch,  where 
the  city  of  Anaconda  now  stands ;  and  he  slept  and  dreamed 
of  gold-ledges,  true  fissures,  and  rusty  gold.  In  the  night 
he  awoke  with  a  mighty  pain,  followed  by  a  mighty  flux ; 
and  two  nights  and  days  he  lay  alone  in  the  aspen  grove. 
No,  not  wholly  alone,  for  Death  came  and  sat  down  on  the 
edge  of  the  blanket;  and  Death  looked  pleased,  and  kept 
on  saying:  "Ah,  ha,  Freck!  I've  got  you  this  time  sure." 
And  Freck  was  too  sick  to  talk  back.  But  Bill  Kay  passed 
down  the  gulch  and  stumbled  over  Freck.  Now,  Bill  was 
in  a  hurry  to  find  a  place  to  drive  a  stake,  but  he  halted 
long  enough  to  say:  "Hello,  old  fellow!  Are  you  going 
to  start  a  graveyard?"  And  handing  Freck  a  part  of  a 
bottle  of  cholera  medicine,  Bill  hurried  on  down  the  gulch. 
The  next  morning  Death  rose  up  and  said :  "Freck,  I  '11 
bid  you  good-bye ;  but  I  '11  come  again  sometime." 

Crowds  began  to  rush  to  Cripple  Creek,  and  the  stages 
and  the  hacks  dumped  good  men  and  bad  men,  rich  men 
and  poor  men,  and  good  women  and  bad  women  into  the 
camp.  And  they  jostled  and  jammed,  surged  and  crowded, 
and  located  claims  one  upon  another,  and  there  was  shoot- 
ing and  stabbing,  compromising  and  law-suits;  and  Crip- 
ple Creek1  was  Dotting  ready  to  go  on  the  map  of  the  world. 
Dirt  was  carried  on  men's  backs  to  the  streams,  and  the 
grains  of  gold  panned  out.  Cripple  Creek  got 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  173 

bigger  and  bigger  day  by  day,  and  shacks  and  tents  cov- 
ered the  hills.  The  saloons,  gambling-hells,  and  dance- 
halls  multiplied,  and  were  run  wide  open  day  and  night. 
And  the  same  old  "steerer,"  or  one  just  like  him,  stood  at 
the  entrance  and  gave  the  same  old  call :  "Faro !  Faro ! 
Faro  to-night !"  And  the  same  old  "capper,"  or  one  just 
like  him,  won  handfuls  of. money,  and  others  rushed  in  and 
lost.  And  the  same  big  blonde  Swede,  or  one  just  like 
him,  with  a  tuft  of  whitish  whiskers  stuck  on  the  point  of 
his  chin  and  his  big  hands  cramped  to  fit  around  a  pick- 
handle,  stood  by  the  wheel  of  fortune,  and  the  wheel  was 
baited  with  a  twenty-dollar  goldpiece;  the  big  blonde  Swede 
would  lay  down  a  dollar  at  a  time,  remarking  each  time: 
"By  golly!  Ay  tank  Ay  ketch  dat  felly  dies  time."  And 
when  seventeen  dollars  had  passed  from  the  pickhandle- 
<?ramped  hand  to  the  hand  of  the  dapper  little  devil  with 
the  silk  hat  and  a  smirk  who  always  stopped  the  wheel  with 
the  needle  pointing  near  the  golden  bait,  the  big  Swede 
turned  away,  saying :  "By  golly !  Ay  tank  sure  I  ketch 
flat  felly,  but  Ay  don't/' 

Some  men  drank  whiskey  and  beer,  and  slept  in  the 
back  shed  of  the  saloon,  and  took  pneumonia  and  died; 
and  men  who  didn't  drink  whiskey  nor  beer  slept  on  the 
ground  in  brush  sheds,  close  to  their  prospect-holes,  and 
took  pneumonia  and  died.  The  black  angel  of  death 
gathered  in  an  abundant  harvest;  but  the  crowds  increased, 
and  Cripple  Creek  grew  bigger  and  bigger  day  by  day. 
In  the  summer  of  1891  Freck  and  partners  built  the  first 
miner's  cabin  in  Grassy  Gulch,  where  the  city  of  Cameron 
now  stands. 

Chit  was  the  first  man  killed  in  a  mine  accident  in 
Cripple  Creek.  Chit  was  a  big  cowboy  from  Texas.  With 
undaunted  courage  he  would  spur  his  horse  into  the  milling 
herd  of  long-horns  and  go  around  and  around  in  the  jam, 
firing  his  revolvers,  'until  the  maddened  circling  mass  of 
long-horns  would  go  down  the  trail  on  the  run;  and  with 
the  same  undaunted  courage  Chit,  by  the  light  of  the  camp- 
fire,  would  deal  himself  three  aces  and  his  partner  two  aces. 
But  Chit  was  caught  in  a  "cave-in." 

The  great  whirlpool  of  a  mining-camp  went  on  whirl- 
ing around  and  around,  and  the  jam  and  the  jostle,  the 
crimes  and  the  drinking;  the  gambling-hells  and  the  dance- 
halls  were  open!  by  day  and  by  night,  and  the  Devil  held  a 


174  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

"love-feast"  in  the  saloons  and  the  dance-halls  seven  clays 
and  seven  nights  each  week,  and  the  Devil's  lady  mission- 
aries induced  many  a  "tenderfoot"  to  come  to  meeting. 
Nevertheless,  Cripple  Creek  grew  bigger  and  bigger  day 
by  day.  The  decent  people  passed  by  on  the  other  side, 
and  at  times,  when  they  were  having  a  real  good  meeting 
and  a  high  old  time,  the  toughs  would  take  a  shot  at  the 
decent  people,  just  to  see  them  take  to  cover.  And  the 
decent  people  held  a  half  secret  and  half  public  meeting, 
and  they  appointed  a  long-legged  twenty-year-old  Irish 
boy  to  act  as  marshal.  Soon  after  this  a  "tenderfoot,"  much 
against  his  will,  was  furnishing  the  sport  for  the  crowd, 
and  the  long-legged  Irish  boy  "ran  in"  the  fellow  with  the 
gun;  that  is,  he  arrested  him  and  put  him  in  the  "lock-up." 
Jack  Smith  heard  about  it.  ~N"ow,  the  Devil  had  commis- 
sioned Jack  Smith  a  bishop,  or  presiding  elder,  or  head 
boss,  or  something  of  the  kind ;  any  way,  Jack  Smith  took 
a  six-shooter  in  each  hand  and  walked  down  to  the  little 
pole  "lock-up"  and  shot  the  lock  all  to  pieces  and  kicked 
open  the  door;  and  Jack  Smith  said,  and  he  said  it  out 
loud,  that  should  the  long-legged  Irish  boy  come  from  un- 
der cover,  he  would  have  to  be  carried  home  i-B-  ...  gub&j- 
sack.  One  night  the  Devil's  workers  were  having  a  real 
good  meeting  and  a  high  old  time,  and  they  were  wonder- 
ing what  had  become  of  the  long-legged  Irish  boy;  sud- 
denly he  stood  in  the  door,  with  a  six-shooter  in  each  hand, 
and  with  a  "Hello,  boys !"  he  began  pulling  two.  triggers 
at  the  same  time;  when  the  crowd  had  thinne.V.^ut  and 
the  smoke  had  cleared  away,  Jack  Smith  and  two  of  his 
best  co-workers  lay  all  of  a  heap,  and  there  wasn't  a  mite 
of  breath  in  their  lungs.  And  the  long-legged  Irish  boy 
wasn't  carried  home  in  a  gunny-sack  either. 

Freck  and  partners  had  located  mining  claims  on  the 
top  of  Bull  Mountain  and  elsewhere.  Freck  built  another 
cabin  near  the  big  spring,  where  the  city  of  Cameron  now 
stands,  in  Grassy  Gulch,  and  Freck  and  Mary  and  their 
"baby  boy"  moved  into  it.  Freck  sold  his  mules  and  kept 
on  digging,  and  when  the  money  was  all  in,  and  he  no 
longer  was  able  to  buy  a  bit  of  bacon  nor  a  pound  of  coffee, 
a  pound  of  giant  powder  nor  a  yard  of  fuse,  he  would  sell 
an  interest  in  a  claim  and  keep  on  digging. 

The  Bull  Hill  War  came  on,  and  the  miners  built  a 
fort  on  the  tiptop  of  Bull  Mountain,  and  Freck  and  part- 


KEMINISCBNCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFI:  175 

ners  furnished  the  horses  to  draw  the  logs  to  build  the  fort. 
The  miners,  armed  with  rifles,  shot-guns,  and  pistols  (for 
the  miners  for  some  time  had  held  up  the  stages  and  bor- 
rowed all  the  shooting-irons  the  passengers  happened  to 
have),  were  lined  up  on  the  tiptop  of  Bull  Hill;  the  sheriff 
and  his  army  were  on  Beaver  Creek,  under  Galena  Hill ;  and 
Grassy  Gulch  lay  between.  The  miners  sent  Fre'ck  and 
Mary  word,  saying:  "There  will  be  a  battle  to-morrow; 
better  get  out  from  between."  So  Freck  and  Mary  and 
others  left  their  cabins  and  fled  over  to  Cripple  Creek  and 
remained  until  the  war  was  over.  The  Governor  rushed 
the  State  Militia  from  Denver  to  Cripple  Creek  and  into 
Grassy  Gulch,  between  the  two  armies.  And  the  Governor 
said  to  the  sheriff:  "Take  your  army  back  to  Colorado 
Springs  and  disband."  And  the  sheriff  obeyed  the  order. 
And  to  the  miners  he  said:  "Surrender  your  guns  and 
disband."  And  the  miners  surrendered  some  old  shot- 
guns and  pistols;  but  they  (wearing  an  innocent  look)  hid 
the  rifles.  The  Militia  went  into  camp  on  the  tiptop  of 
Bull  Hill,  and  the  Bull  Hill  War  was  over. 

Marv  and  Freck  returned  to  their  cabin  near  the  big 
spring,  and  the  drilling  and  the  blasting  went  right  on, 
and  the  winding  of  the  windlass  with  the  two  cranks.  To- 
day would  climb  up  from  somewhere  behind  Pike's  Peak 
(Pike's  Peak  was  just  over  yonder  beyond  the  valley  of  the 
Beaver,  and  Pike's  Peak's  little  baby  mountains  at  her  feet) 
and  hasten  after  Yesterday,  and  To-morrow  would  gallop 
along  u«i  sky  trail  in  pursuit  of  To-day.  The  days  all 
came  up  over  Pike's  Peak,  and  the  days  all  went  down 
over  the  range  (the  range  was  just  beyond  those  sleepy  blue 
foot-hills  to  the  westward).  And  the  Sun  as  he  passecl  over 
Bull  Mountain  (and  he  passed  every  day)  would  smile 
down  on  Freck;  for  Freck  was  away  up  more  than  eleven 
thousand  feet,  and  at  times  he  was  in  the  smiling  sunshine 
while  the  clouds  and  the  storms  surged  far  below.  And  the 
Sun,  with  the  lower  half  of  his  eye  shut,  would  look  back 
and  say:  "Freck,  I'll  see  you  again  to-morrow."  And 
then  he  would  sink  out  of  sight  behind  the  range.  The 
days  kept  right  on  passing,  and  Freck  kept  right  on  turn- 
ing the  windlass  with  the  two  cranks  and  winding  up  the 
broken,  rock  until  the  dump  was  a  little  mountain  and  the 
eh  a  ft  was  five  hundred  feet  deep. 

Three  years  had  passed  over  the  range,  and  still  hope 


176  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

kept  the  drilling,  the  blasting,  and  the  winding  going  right 
•on.  Mary  and  Freck  and  their  "baby  boy"  lived  in  their 
cabin  near  the  big  spring;  and  their  "baby  boy"  never 
knew  a  home,  nor  ever  wished  to  know  a  home,  save  with 
his  father  and  mother.  On  the  morning  of  December  26, 
1894,  with  cheerful  and  hopeful  words,  as  on  other  morn- 
ings, he  went  out  from  Mary  and  Freck,  in  the  full  strength 
>of  his  young  manhood;  for  he  was  twenty-eight  years  old. 
The  platform  on  which  he  was  working  broke,  and  he  fell 
to  the  bottom  of  the  deep,  dark,  and  jagged  shaft,  and  was 
-carried  home  to  Mary  and  Freck  dead.  The  pall  of  dark- 
ness fell  over  Mary  and  Freck,  and  hope  died  in  their 
hearts ;  and  Mary,  crushed  and  broken,  moaned  and  sobbed : 
"Oh,  my  baby  boy,  my  baby  boy!"  They  laid  him  to  rest 
in  Evergreen  Cemetery  at  Colorado  Springs.  Never  again 
did  Freck  return  to  the  deep,  dark  shaft;  never  again  did 
he  stand  by  the  windlass  with  the  two  cranks  and  witness 
the  sun  coming  over  Pike's  Peak  and  sinking  to  rest  be- 
hind the  range.  Freck  and  Mary  left  the  mountains,  and 
for  six  years  they  dwelt  in  the  dark  valley;  and  laid  flowers 
on  their  "baby  boy's"  grave. 


AN  OLD  TIME  OZARK  MOUNTAIN  MEETING  HOUSE,  WHERE  THE 
GOSPEL  OF  'PEACE  ON  EARTH  AND  GOOD  WILL  TO  MAN"  WAS 
PREACHED  TO  THE  MASTER  AND  His  SLAVE. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONKKI;   LIKK 


177 


Again  a  voice  seemed  to  say :  "It  is  better  somewhere 
else."  And  Freck  said:  "Mary,  let  us  go  forth  and  seek 
out  and  build  for  ourselves  a  home  on  the  western  frontier." 
The  oxen  were  not  yoked,  nor  the  mules  harnessed,  but  a 
train  set  them  down  on  the  shore  of  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
And  they  did  not  find  the  place  in  California,  nor  in 
Oregon,  but  away  up  in  northeast  Washington  they  bought 
a  little  farm.  But  it  did  not  satisfy,  it  did  not  fill  the 
place;  and  a  voice  seemed  to  say:  "It  is  better  somewhere 


178 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


MRS    LILLIAN  PARK. 

else."  And  they  sold;  and  after  a  journey  of  two  thousand 
miles,  they  were  dropped  off  in  the  Ozark  Mountains. 

Here  is  a  picture  of  an  old-time  meeting-house,  where 
the  gospel  of  "peace  on  earth,  and  good-will  toward  men" 
was  preached,  in  the  Ozark  Mountains,  in  the  long  ago,  to 
the  master  and  to  his  slave;  and  here  is  a  picture  also  of 
a  present-day  Ozark  ]\Iountain  preacher  and  family  group. 

And  they  bought  a  farm  in  tiie O/ark  Mountains,  and 
Freck  and  Mary  lived  alone,  and  said  to  their  hearts: 
"Surely  we  have  found  the  long-sought  place."  But,  like 
Sister  Lucy's  heart,  theirs  would  not  believe  it,  and  kept 
on  longing  for  somewhere  else.  And  after  three  years,  the 
mighty  enemy,  the  last  enemy  that  shall  be  destroyed,  the 
black  angel  of  death,  laid  his  hand  on  Mary;  and  for  seven 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


17$ 


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I 


MRS.  CVRBNB  MIMA  Bancroft  UNPfff 

months  Mary  fought  a  good  fight,  but  the  enemy  was" 
stronger  than  Mary.  Freck  stayed  by  Mary's  side  day  and 
night,,  and  prepared  the  food,  and  assisted  her  from  the 
bed  to  the  chair;  and  he  rested  in  a  chair  by  her  bedside. 
And  their  hearts  were  feeding  on  the  hope  that  the  part- 
ing of  the  ways  was  afar  off.  And  the  time  came  when 
Freck  had  to  carry  Mary  to  the  chair.  And  their  hearts 
still  fed  on  the  hope  that  the  parting  of  the  ways  was  afar 
off.  And  the  time  came  when  Mary  could  no  longer  be 
carried  to  the  chair.  And  the  conditions  became  known, 
and  the  neighbors  came,  two  and  two,  and  from  ten  until 
three  each  night  they  watched  by  Mary's  bedside.  There 
is  no  spot  or  place  on  earth  where  dwells  a  people  with 
kinder  hearts  than  in  the  Ozark  Mountains. 


180  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

And  Mary  said:  "Robert,  come  near  me;  I  want  to 
talk  to  you."  And  he  gathered  the  frail,,  emaciated  form 
into  his  arms  and  held  it  to  his  breast ;  for  not  a  morsel  of 
food  had  passed  her  lips  for  twenty-one  days.  And  Mary 
told  him  what  she  wished  him  to  do  when  she  was  gone. 
And  he  has  not  done  it.  And  with  her  little  hand  she 
smoothed  his  tear-wet  cheek  and  said:  "Robert,  I  did 
want  to  get  well  so  much,  that  I  might  repay  you  for  your 
kindness  to  me;  but,  bless  your  dear  heart,  I  will  bid  you 
good-bye."  And  Mary  and  Freck  for  the  last  time  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes;  and  Freck's  were  dim  with  weeping, 
but  Mary's  were  as  clear  and  blue  as  the  morning  sky. 
And  at  the  rising  of  the  sun,  on  the  twentieth  day  of  June, 
1909,  Freck  adjusted  the  pillows  and  stood  alone  by  the 
bedside,  and  Mary,  without  a  tremor  or  a  sigh,  fell  asleep 
in  Jesus.  And  after  walking  side  by  side  with  Mary  and 
sharing  the  joys  and  the  sorrows  of  life  for  fifty-two  years, 
two  months,  and  thirteen  days,  Freck  was  left  standing 
alone. 

You  remember  that  a  certain  woman  poured  a  box  of 
very  precious  ointment  upon  the  head  of  our  Lord,  and 
some  found  fault;,  but  the  Master  said:  "Let  her  alone. 
Why  trouble  ye  the  woman?  Verily  1  say  unto  you,  that 
wheresoever  this  gospel  shall  be  preached  in  the  whole 
world,  this  that  this  woman  hath  done  shall  be  spoken  for 
a  memorial  of  her."  And  it  is  the  desire  of  my  heart  that 
wheresoever  this  book  shall  be  read  the  name  of  Mrs.  Lil- 
lian Park  and  the  name  of  Mrs.  Gyrene  Mills  shall  be 
spoken  for  a  memorial  of  their  kindness  to  Mary  and  Freck ; 
for  they  were  ministering*  angels  in  the  time  of  sorrow. 

And  it  is  also  the  desire  of  my  heart  that  when  the 
storms  of  life  are  past,  I  may  be1  laid  by  Mary's  side;  that 
when  the  Son  of  Man  shall  come  in  the  clouds  of  heaven, 
with  the  angels  of  His  might  and  the  trump  of  God,  and, 
as  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  our  Lord  and  Redeemer 
(Whose  we  are  and  Whom  we  serve)  shall  call,  "Mary, 
come  forth!  Robert,  come  forth!"  \vc  shall  stand  side 
by  side  by  the  open  graves  and  look,  into  each  other's  eyes, 
as  in  the  olden  time  we  stood  side  bv  side  and  witnessed 
the  battle  of  the  light  with  the  darkness  at  tho  birth  of  the 
Morning,  on  the  tiptop  of  the  "Mountain  of  the  "Blood  of 
Christ."  For  we  will  carry  with  us  over  the  Jordan  of 
the  resurrection  all  tli<»  kind,  tender,  lovely,  and  sweet 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  181 

things  of  this  life;  but  the  bitter,,  cruel,  hateful  things  will 
be  left  on  this  side  the  Jordan,  and  will  not  be  remembered 
nor  come  upon  the  heart. 


"There  are  eyes  that  with  brightness  were  beaming. 

There  are  lips  thai  our  own  often  met, 
That  the  mould  of  the  grave  is  now  dimming, 

That  in  silence  unbroken  are  set. 
Flitting,  flitting  away, 

All  that  we  cherish  most  dear. 
There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  will  stay ; 

Roses  must  die  with  the  year. 

"  JTis  the  joys  the  most  prized  that  are  fleetest, 

That  quickest  slip  out  from  the  heart; 
As  perfumes  that  are  rarest  and  richest 

Are  the  earliest  ones  to  depart. 
Flitting,  flitting  away, 

All  that  we  cherish  most  dear. 
There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  will  stay; 

Roses  must  die  with  the  year. 

"Sadly,  mournfully  sighing, 

Over  their  ashes  we  sit ; 
While  the  roses  around  us  are  dying, 
And  the  moments  so  speedily  flit. 

Flitting,  flitting  away, 

All  that  we  cherish  most  dear. 
There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  will  stay  ; 

Roses  must  die  with  the  year." 

"Dream  on,  dream  on,  nor  breathe  a  single  sigh 
To  wake  the  gentle  zephyrs  that  veil  the  starlit  sky." 


All  that  is  left  is  a  dream  of  the  eyes  that  with  bright- 
ness were  beaming,  and  the  lips  that  our  own  often  met. 

Freck  dwelt  alone  in  his  desolate  home,  and  the  tear- 
fountain  overflowed  day  and  night,  and  his  heart  cried : 
"I  ?m  alone !  I  ?m  alone !"  And  in  a  dull,  half  uncon- 


182 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 


scions,  bewildered,  and  broken  daze  he  sat  by  the  window 
and  gazed  toward  the  graveyard,  hoping  arid  half  believing ; 
but  Mary  never  returned.  And  the  man  that  wrote,  "Death 
is  only  a  dream,"  wrote  a  cruel  falshood. 

The  sun  had  risen  in  the  east,  had  crossed  the  Ozark 
Mountains,  and  had  set  in  the  west  for  a  year,  and  Freck 
was  still  dwelling  alone  in  his  desolate  home.  Then  big- 
hearted  and  upright  Joie  Park  drove  up  to  the  gate,  and 
coming  in,  said:  "You  are  living  too  much  alone.  I  have 
come  to  take  you  home  with  me.'"  And  Lillian  and  Zetta 
and  Joe  treated  Freck  with  much  kindness  and  caused  a 
streak  of  sunshine  to  shine  across  his  dark  and  cloudy  path. 


Here  is  a  picture  of  the  home  of  Lillian  and  Zeta  and 
Joe  in  the  Ozark  Mountains,  on  the  hill  among  the  trees. 

Our  Lord  and  Master  felt  the  desolation  of  being  alone 
and  homeless;  for  one  came  to  Him  and  said:  "Master, 
I  will  follow  thee  wheresoever  thou  goest."  But  the  Mas- 
ter replied  :  "The  foxes  'burrow  in  the  ground  and  have 
homes,  and  the  birds  build  nests  and  have  homes,  but  T  am 
alone;  I  have  no  home  to  which  I  can  take  you.  The  Son 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  183 

of  .Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head."  And  Martha  and 
Mary  and  Lazarus  lived  in  Bethany,  and  when  the  Master 
came  to  Bethany,  they  would  take  Him  into  their  home 
and  cause  a  streak  of  sunshine  to  shine  across  His  lonely 
path.  And  because  of  this  kindness  it  is  recorded:  "Jesus 
loved  Martha  and  Mary  and  Lazarus/'  And  Freck  prays 
the  Master  to  love  Lillian  and  Zeta  and  Joe,  and  all  others 
who  showed  him  kindness  in  the  time  of  trouble.  And  the 
Master  has  said:  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have  shown  kindness  to 
one  of  the  least  of  Mine,  I  account  it  as  done  unto  Me.  And 
ye  shall  not  lose  your  reward." 

In  the  long,  long  ago,  when  the  winter  wind  would 
howl  and  drive  the  snow  before  it,  and  we  sat  by  the  fire- 
side in  our  cabin  home,  the  Mother  would  tell  the  story  of 
the  good  woman  whose  heart  was  always  sad  because  she 
had  not  lived  at  the  time  the  Saviour  was  on  the  earth, 
that  she  might  have  shown  her  love  and  loyalty  by  minister- 
ing to  His  wants/  And  one  cold  winter  day  the  wind  was 
swirling  the  snow1  in  blinding  sheets,  and  the  good  woman 
sat  by  her  warm  fire  and  looked  out  the  window  at  the 
people  hurrying  along  the  street,  some  clothed  in  goodly 
winter  garments  and  some  clad  in  tatters.  And  her  heart 
was  crying:  "Oh,  that  I  had  lived  at  the  time  the  Lord 
was  on  the  earth !  thati  I  might  have  shown  my  love  and 
lo}ralty  by  ministering  to  His  wants."  And  she  thought 
of  a  poor  widow,  and  wondered,  "Has  this  poor  widow  and 
her  children  food?"  And  she  filled  a  basket,  and  putting 
on  her  wraps,  she>.  went  forth  into  the  swirling  snow.  The 
last  crust  had  been  eaten,  and  on  "her  way  home  she  met  a 
little  girl,  bare-headed  and  bare-handed,  battling  with  the 
storm,  on  her  way  to  the  baker's  for  a  penny  loaf"  of  bread; 
and  she  led  thq  child  into  a  store  and  fitted  warm  mittens 
and  a  hood,  and  gave  her  money.  And  turning  into  a 
drug  store,  she  overheard  a  poor  man  saying:  "My  wife 
is  sick,  and  I  came  to  get  medicine;  but  T  have  not  the 
money  to  pay  you  to-day."  "My  terms  are  strictly  cash," 
answered  the  druggist.  The  good  woman  quietly  slipped 
a  dollar  into  the  poor  man's  hand,  and  passed  out  the 
door.  She  laid  aside  her  snowy  wraps  and,  numbed  by  the 
cold,  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  fell  into  the  old  line  of 
thought :  "Oh,  that  T  had  lived  at  the  time  the  Lord  was  on 
the  earth;  that  I  might  have  shown  my  love  and  loyalty  by 
ministering  to  His  wants."  She  fell  asleep,  but  the  good 


1.84  .  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

woman/  did  not  know  that  she  had  fallen  asleep ;  and  look- 
ing up,  she  saw  the  Saviour  standing  by  her  chair  and 
heard  Him  saying :  "If  you  give  only  a  cup  of  cold  water, 
and  if  you  minister  to  My  poor,  I  account  it  as  done  unto 
Me,  and  you  shall  in  no  wise  lose  your  reward."  The  good 
woman  awoke,  and  she  was  alone;  but  she  knew  that  the 
Lord  had  spoken  to  her,  and  never  more  did  her  heart 
grieve  because  she  had  not  lived  at  the  time  the  Lord  was 
on  the  earth.- 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

It  has  been  said :  "The  man  comes  out  of  the  environ- 
ment of  the  hoj." 

Abraham  Lincoln  was  born  in  a  log  cabin  in  the  dark 
woods  of  Kentucky,  and  of  English  ancestry.  Freck  wa? 
born  in  a  log  cabin  in  the  big  woods  of  western  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  of  Scotch  ancestry. 

Abraham  Lincoln  knew  well  the  hardships,  the  priva- 
tions, and  the  scant  living  of  pioneer  life.  Freck  placed 
his  shoeless  feet  in  the  footprints  of  Abraham  Lincoln 
through  all  the  valleys  of  hardships,  privations,  and  scant 
living  on  the  western  frontier. 

Abraham  Lincoln,  as  a  lad,  gained  a  goodly  report  as 
an  ox-driver.  Not  a  lad  along  the  border  could  handle  a 
long  string  of  oxen  better  than  Freck;  and  Freck  also 
gained  a  reputation  as  a  rider  of  unbroken  colts. 

Abraham  Lincoln  was  a  greater  rail-splitter  than 
Freck;  but  Freck  has  broken  away  up  toward  a  thousand 
acres  of  prairie. 

Abraham  Lincoln  spent  but  little  time  sitting  on  the 
backless  puncheon  benches  in  the  rude  log  school-houses  on 
the  frontier.  Five  months,  made  up  of  the  stormy  days  of 
winter,  would  cover  all  the  time  Freck  battled  with  the 
long  rows  of  hard  words  in  Webster's  Spelling-book  and 
grappled  with  the  problems  in  Kay's  Arithmetic. 

Abraham  Lincoln's  name  is  known  to  the  four  corners 
of  the  earth,  and  when  he  was  carried  to  the  grave,  thous- 
ands attended  and  went  home  to  weep.  Freck  has  lived  a 
life  of  toil  and  seclusion  and  is  wholly  unknown,  and  when 
her  is  carried  to  the  L^THYC,  a  few  perhaps  will  stand  by  and 


REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE  185 

go  home  and  straightway  forget  that  Freck  ever  lived,  and 
his  name  will  forever  perish  from  the  earth. 

We  cannot  all  build  an  empire,  nor  write  our  name  on 
the  pages  of  Time;  but  we  can  halt  a  moment  by  the  way 
and  speak  a  kind  word,  which  will  make  a  sad  and  lonely 
heart  feel  lighter  and  for  the  moment  make  the  world  seem 
brighter,  and  someone  will  be  glad  that  they  met  us  on  the 
•way. 

CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

Freck  is  still  dwelling  alone,  and  the  clouds  still  come 
down  and  shut  out  the  sunshine,  and  the  tear-fountain  still 
flows  over  at  the  low  places,  and  his  heart  still  cries :  "I  'm 
alone !  I  'm  alone  I" 

When  our  Lord  met  Martha  and  Mary  at  the^  grave  of 
their  dead  brother,  the  tear-fountain  was  flowing  over ;  and 
Jesus  was  troubled  in  spirit,  and  His  heart  was  moved  with 
compassion  for  the  sorrowing  sisters,  and  the  tear-fountain 
filled  to  the  full  and  flowed  over,  and  Jesus  wept,  and  His 
tears  mingled  with  the  tears  of  the  sorrowing  sisters.  Not 
that  Lazarus  was  dead;  but  because  He  beheld  the  flowing 
tears,  and  looked  into  the  grief-stricken  faces  of  the  be- 
reaved sisters.  And  He  cried :  "Where  have  ye  laid  him?" 

Dear  sorrowing  friend,  when  left  alone,  be  not  ashamed 
of  the  tears,  but  let  them  flow  all  along  the  banks;  for 
Jesus  knows  all  about  it,  and  He  loves  you  and  pities  you 
with  a  tender  pity  when  He  looks  into  your  grief -stricken 
face  and  hears  your  heart  cry :  "I  'm  alone !  1 7m  alone !" 
And  it  is  a  consolation  to  our  sad  and  lonely  hearts  to 
know  that  Jesus  knows.  But  this  does  not  fill  the  aching 
void;  for  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  when  God  said,  "It 
is  not  good  for  the  man  to  be  alone/'  so  it  is,  and  so  shall 
it  ever  be  to  the  end  of  time. 

And  now,  dear  reader,  we  are  nearing  the  parting  of 
the  ways.  And  no  doubt  you  will  say :  "Well,  now,  I  can 
write  a  better  book."  And  perhaps  you  can;  for  you  would 
not  be  mighty  much  of  a  writer  could  you  not.  Freck,  in 
the  long  ago,  blazed  many  a  trail  through  the  thick  dark 
woods,  and  when  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  the  tops  of 
the  trees,  and  the  shadows  were  creeping  through  the  for- 
est, he  would  shoulder  his  axe  and  start  for  the  camp.  And 
as  he  passed  back  along  the  blazed  trail  he  would  see  many 


186  REMINISCENCES  OF  PIONEER  LIFE 

crooked  places,  but  there  was  no  time  to  make  the  crooked 
places  straight;  the  sun  was  going  down  and  the  darkness 
coming  on,  and  he  was  going  into  camp.  And  as  Freck 
goes  back  along  the  blazed  trail  in  this  book  he  sees  many 
crooked  places,  but  there  is  no  time  to  make  them  straight; 
the  sun  is  going  down,  the  shadows  are  growing  longer, 
and  the  night  is  coming  on;  Freck  is  seventy-five  years  old, 
and  he  will  soon  go  into  camp  for  the  last  time.  Good-bye. 

ROBERT  R.  LATTA. 
(FRECK.) 


